


glitter glue and pastel hearts

by moonythejedi394



Series: glitter glue and pastel hearts [1]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Crafts, Explicit Language, Field Trip, Gangs, Glitter, M/M, Minor Violence, Pastel Phil, Phandom Big Bang, Punk Dan, Xbox games, princess kink, psuedo smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-17
Updated: 2016-11-17
Packaged: 2018-08-31 14:09:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 58,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8581525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonythejedi394/pseuds/moonythejedi394
Summary: A boy with a broken heart, who never learned to confess his thoughts to anyone but the moon, meets sunshine in the form of a boy in pastel pink shoes. In dreary England, all light is pale and fleeting, but the sun shines from his smile and his eyes, and the boy's broken heart is mended, put back together with glitter glue. In the end, the one winning in the situation will of course be Mrs. Howell, who shipped it before they even met.





	1. part one

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hour_glass](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hour_glass/gifts).



> Hi! Oh my gosh, okay, so, this is new for me. Ish. This is my second phanfic to be published for PBB, but it’s my baby. Well, technically it’s my wife’s baby bc both this and my other fic were written for her, but that’s not the point. Yes, she asked me to write her two different phanfics. She’s a special snowflake kind of girl. My point is this whole thing has been an awesome experience, so I want to thank my artist, my beta, and my wife for helping this happen. You guys are all awesome.

* * *

 

**_part one_ **

 

 

Why he was there, sitting in a corner of the room with his hands full of pink craft paper, was beyond him. All he knew was that he was meant to be tracing hearts on it for the group of children surrounding him to cut out with their safety scissors.

Dan Howell was indeed the last person you’d expect to find in a first-year classroom helping kids make Valentines. In fact, he looked like he was the kind of the person who would mug these children, with his dark red fringe, many piercings, and the tattoo on his neck. Yet there he was, with a little girl in a pink dress curled up at his feet, fast asleep with a heart shaped cookie in her hand.

Whatever the reason he was there, the person with whom lay the blame sat at the front of the room writing out messages for the children, as her handwriting was much better than theirs. His mother taught this class and had managed to guilt trip him into replacing her helper who had gone off for holiday with his wife. Every time a kid walked up to him and asked him to spell the word ‘heart’, he’d look up and give the back of his mother’s head a mental middle finger. How hard was it to spell that damn word anyway?

“Hey, Dan, would you go fetch another bottle of glitter glue from the cupboard?”

Dan looked up at the voice; it was the other student helper in the room, Phil his name was, a boy he didn’t normally interact with from farther north than Reading. Dan gave a curt nod and tried to unfold himself from the tiny chair without disturbing the sleeping girl. He barely held back a mumbled “fuck” and shoved himself up. After nearly stepping on a child who had decided to lay on the floor to scribble on a pink heart, he made his way to the supply cupboard in the back and yanked the door open. He had to struggle with the handle as there was a child-proof thing on it that made it difficult to turn it.

“What color?” he asked.

“Erm, how many are in there?”

“Six, it looks like.”

“Bring the silver one.”

Dan leaned on the door jam, looking through the bottles. “I don’t see silver,” he said. He did see gray, though.

“Really? I could swear we had more.”

“I want silver!” a random child whined. Dan looked back, to see Phil standing up and crossing the room with difficulty. Phil was a bit out of place as well, but just in height. He was shorter than Dan, but still twice the height of even the tallest child in his mother’s class. Everything else about him fit amongst the little children, even among the décor. Phil was dressed in red jeans and a pale pink dress shirt with a white bow tie patterned in pink hearts, probably for the occasion. Dan was dressed for Valentine’s Day too, though, as he was wearing a Deadpool tee shirt. He thought the pink flower crown in Phil’s hair was probably a bit much though, even if it looked adorable.

Phil reached him and looked into the closet. “Dan, there’s some right there!”

Dan shrugged. “It doesn’t look silver.”

Phil gave him a look that Dan thought more fit for scolding a five-year-old than he. “Don’t be obnoxious, Dan.”

Dan gave him a sweet smile, then, as Phil’s back was blocking anyone’s view, waved his middle finger under Phil’s nose. Phil looked affronted, satisfying his need to offend him, and Dan went back to his chair. After he dropped into it, his 6”3 frame much too large for something meant for seven-year-olds, the little girl who’d fallen asleep on his foot earlier shifted and put her head back on the top of his combat boot. Phil smirked at him, as he was now trapped. Dan scowled.

“Daniel, darling, I can’t thank you enough for the help you gave during the party,” his mother told him at dinner that evening. Dan grunted in response. “I know you probably wanted to go and hang out with your friends, but I couldn’t be more grateful.”

“It’s fine, mum.”

“I’m glad that you’re moving on, though,” his mother continued. “It’s good for you.”

Dan fell silent. He didn’t want to talk about his ex-boyfriend. He wondered if he glared hard enough at his plate of food, his mother would get the hint and leave the subject alone.

“I mean, you’re young and attractive, there will be plenty of fish in the sea.”

“I’m going to go do homework,” Dan announced, standing up and scooping up his plate and fork. “I’ll see you later.”

His mother looked a little crestfallen, but Dan ignored this as he dumped his dishes in the sink. He left the kitchen and went up to his room. He didn’t do homework, rather he picked up his laptop and opened Tumblr. He ended up staying on Tumblr until past midnight, it was a Friday anyway and he didn’t have work until the afternoon next day.

It was more than a week before his mother asked him to help with a class activity again. They were going on a field trip, and the teacher’s aide that was assigned to her had to leave suddenly due to a death in the family. He had recently turned eighteen, and since no one else was able to come, the school board agreed to let him be the third adult. That other boy who’d been at the Valentine’s crafting party, Phil, would be coming too. Apparently, he was a senior as well and was earning brownie points with the school board. Dan only agreed because his mother promised to buy him Fallout 4 in return. Though she made him take out some of his piercings, which felt very odd. He only got to leave in his lip ring, since it was only a few weeks old and would close up if he took it out.

The field trip would end up all of his only free Saturday that month, at which point he was regretting agreeing. He didn’t want Fallout 4 that badly, but it was too late to back out.

“We’ll take a school bus up to London,” his mother told him as they drove to the school. “And we’ll be back by seven.”

“It’s not even seven now!” Dan protested. “That’s almost twelve hours!”

“We have to account for driving, London’s nearly two hours away.”

“Are you serious?” Dan asked her.

“As the Joker,” his mother said. Dan only groaned, because that was slightly funny and his mother wasn’t meant to be funny.

“What am I going to do on a two-hour bus ride?” he asked her. “I didn’t bring my computer.”

“You’ll be able to chat with Phil during the drive,” she told him. “He likes some of the things you like.”

Dan looked at her, one eyebrow raised. “Are we thinking of the same Phil? The one who wears flower crowns and mint green sweaters?”

“Yes, that Phil. He likes Pokémon, doesn’t that count?”

Dan considered this. He was rather fond of Pokémon… “Fine, but I reserve the right to huddle in the back with my earbuds turned all the way up.”

“As long as you help prevent food fights, that’s fine with me.”

The bus was already there when they arrived, but other than that they were the first on sight. Since it was cold outside, they stayed in the car as the students wouldn’t be arriving for another twenty minutes, a fact his mother had also neglected to mention.

Another car arrived ten minutes after they did, however, and parked beside theirs. It was a beat up black Toyota, out of which his mother’s teaching assistant Phil climbed. Dan barely glanced up at him before Phil opened his door.

“What the hell – ” Dan started, however, Phil cut him off.

“Move over, it’s freezing!”

“So shut the door!”

Phil pushed at his shoulder, and Dan ended up scooting despite his better judgment. Phil climbed into the car and pulled the door shut, then huddled against Dan’s side.

“The heat in my car’s out again,” he explained. “I’ve grown ice in my bones after driving just five minutes!”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Phil, you should have said something! We would have come to get you!”

Phil shook his head and pressed closer to Dan. “It’s fine, Mrs. Howell, it was just a few minutes.”

Dan was too startled to add anything to this exchange, as he wasn’t used to strange boys trying to siphon off his body heat, let alone start cuddling up to him after only one meeting. He reached over and turned up the heater, suddenly glad for his mother’s old Buick and its connected bench seats, otherwise, Phil would have ended up sitting on him.

At that moment, though, Phil decided to shove his hands into the pocket of Dan’s jacket and drop his head onto Dan’s shoulder. “I’m like Elsa right now,” he muttered.

“More like Anna,” Dan corrected. “Elsa didn’t mind the cold.”

“Oh, right.” Phil burrowed deeper into Dan’s shoulder and arm and exhaled. “You’re very warm.”

“Is that why you’re feeling me up?” Dan quipped. His mother laughed and Phil blushed.

“I’m just trying to get warm!” Phil said, his eyes going wide. “I have a very low body temperature!”

Dan snorted and looked over at his mother. Then his smirk immediately vanished and his own eyes widened. She was smiling at them, a small smile that should not have been pointed in the same direction as him and another boy. She noticed his expression and quickly looked away, but the damage was done.

 _Oh, fuck,_ he thought. _She ships us._

“Phil, dear, did you get the worksheets for the students?”

“Yes, they’re in my bag. I brought extras too, in case anyone loses theirs.”

“You’re a godsend, Phil.”

“Thank you, Mrs. H.”

Dan began fiddling with his lip ring with his tongue, trying not to think about the consequences of his mother shipping him with her assistant, grabbed his phone and unlocked it. The car was too old to have an auxiliary port, but the speakers on his iPhone were powerful enough. He opened Spotify, grabbed a random playlist, and hit the first Panic! At the Disco song he saw.

“Hey, Vegas Lights!” Phil said, lifting his head from Dan’s shoulder.

“You listen to Panic?” Dan asked him incredulously.

“Of course I do!” Phil answered, sticking his nose in the air. “I’m full blown emo.”

Dan raised one eyebrow, and it felt weird without the usual weight of its two barbell piercings. Phil, the boy wearing pale blue jeans and shirt with a bubble print bowtie, claimed to be full blown emo.

“Okay, part emo,” Phil said. “You should have seen me a few years ago.”

“I’m sure you had the whole 2005 MCR aesthetic,” Dan said sarcastically, turning back to his phone. He decided to ignore Phil and his mother in favor of Tumblr’s mobile app.

“They’re arriving,” his mother spoke up, before Tumblr could even load. Dan sighed and switched back to Spotify to pause the music.

"Should we get out yet?" Phil asked, leaning across Dan to speak to his mother.

"In a moment, after more show up."

Phil nodded and dropped his head back on Dan's shoulder. Dan went back to Tumblr. "I swear my car seeps cold air out of the vents constantly just to spite me."

"You should get it seen to, then," Dan's mother suggested.

Dan looked over at Phil, who let out a sad sigh and shook his head.

"I would, but I'm afraid insurance won't cover something so simple as heat and I've not got the budget."

"Oh, that's a shame," Dan's mother replied, and she meant it. Dan looked down at his phone, grateful for his mother's well-kept, if old, sedan with its functioning heat system.

Another minute passed; Dan had just reblogged a gif of Benedict Cumberbatch when his mother cut the engine. Dan looked up at her and hit the home button on his phone.

"Ready to be thrown to the wolves?" she asked him.

"Haha," Dan mocked. His mother chuckled and popped open her door. She got out and shut it, however, Phil was still burrowed into Dan's arm. He looked down at him and quirked an eyebrow. "Are you going to get out?"

Phil looked at him with the eyes of a puppy who had been told it had to go outside for the night. "Do I have to?"

Dan snorted. "You're the one who volunteered for this shit."

Phil's puppy eyes became confused. "But you're here too?"

"I was tricked and bribed," Dan informed him.

Phil let out a little 'oh' and looked outside. "But it's so cold outside..."

Dan rolled his eyes. "I'm not Michael Bublé and you're not Idina Menzel. Baby – get out."

Phil blinked, then sighed and disentangled his body from the sleeve of Dan's jacket. “As you wish.”

“Don’t quote Princess Bride at me, just get out of the fucking car.”

Phil stuck his tongue out at him and opened the car door, half standing up. “Oh, it’s freezing.” He still hesitated on getting out, so Dan put a hand on his ass and shoved lightly to get him moving. Phil stumbled a little before straightening up, looking at Dan with pink cheeks. Dan ignored him, checking the car to be sure his mother got the keys before locking it and shutting his door. He strode past Phil, not bothered by the brisk air, to where his mother was standing. A few of the parents had gotten out of their cars with their children, bundled up in marshmallow-like jackets and woolen hats, and more than one of them had begun to watch him with a suspicious eye. Dan resisted the urge to smirk; he did attract such gazes even without his more than a dozen piercings, and today his studded boots, leather jacket, and the clearly visible tattoo curling out of the top of his shirt didn’t help. Although, he probably would have worn the leather jacket regardless, it was extremely warm. He shoved his hands in his pockets with his phone and pursed his lips, waiting for anything to happen.

“What exactly are we doing today?” he asked his mum.

“Aquarium,” she replied. “Followed by a tour of the Tower of London.”

Dan nodded; he’d made similar trips throughout primary school, this was no different. Phil appeared beside him, his arms wrapped tightly around a galaxy patterned backpack and bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet. Dan thought his teeth might have been chattering, but Phil’s jaw was clenched tightly. Dan found himself studying him out of the corner of his eye; as his mother seemed to ship the two of them, it was likely that she had roped him into this intentionally in hopes that the two of them would hit it off. However, Dan doubted Phil was gay despite his kawaii appearance, which was unfortunate; Phil was attractive, he had to admit. He had sharp cheekbones and pale skin, dark hair that he thought was probably dyed that black, a lithe frame and bright blue eyes. It was probably his blue eyes that had caused Dan’s mother to hope for a relationship between the two of them. Carter had had blue eyes.

Quickly, he jerked his gaze away and to the ground, changing his course of thought to the day his mother had doomed him to. At least twelve hours of having to listen to a bunch of whiny kids, and he wouldn’t be able to tell them to shut the fuck up the way he did his classmates. Without noticing it, he had begun to fiddle with his lip ring again. He stopped, as it wasn’t good for the newest hole in his lip. He wished that he had his other lip piercing in, since it would have given his nervous tick something to mess with other than the youngest of his piercing.

He didn’t particular listen as his mother started calling role and giving instructions; he was aware of only four parents remaining after the children had begun to file onto the bus. _Great,_ he thought. _That leaves seven adults and twenty-odd kids._

“Dan, you and Phil go sit in the back,” his mother commanded as they themselves entered the bus. Dan nodded stiffly, already tugging his headphones from his pocket, and made his way to the very back of the bus where only one bench was empty; he took the window seat and plugged in his headphones. Phil dropped down beside him and rubbed his hands together, out of a way to create heat more than excitement, Dan guessed.

Dan shoved his earbuds in and set the volume to just loud enough to drown out the chattering children but not block out anyone trying to catch his attention before starting the music again. It picked up during Thnks Fr Mmrs and he leaned on the window to stare blankly at the bench in front of him. His eyelids drifted shut.

Something poked his shoulder. Dan cracked one eye and pulled out an earbud.

“Could I listen?” Phil said, his voice barely audible around the shouts of the children. Dan was heavily tempted to say no and keep both sound-canceling earbuds to himself, but caught a bit of the conversation between the two children in front of them, and winced internally at how stupid their argument truly was. He gave Phil the earbud.

He leaned back against the window and sighed. It was going to be a very long drive.

Dan dozed off again not long later, the hum of the engine and the vibrations through the floor pulling his eyes closed. He half awoke when he felt a weight fall on his shoulder, but realized it was just Phil falling asleep as well and ignored it. Despite having only one earbud, he managed to tune out the rest of the bus and dream.

He woke with the jolt of the bus’s brakes; raising his head and looking around, he saw the urban area of London. The bus was parking outside of a massive and grand building he supposed was the aquarium, and the children were all getting riled up again. Dan stretched and yawned, his spine cracked and he let out a sigh.

“Oh, that’s nasty,” he heard. Dan turned and saw Phil lifting his head and wrinkling his nose.

“What?” Dan asked. He cracked his neck. “That?”

“Yes, ew!” Phil gave a shudder and Dan smirked.

“Everyone, please exit the bus in an orderly fashion!”

Dan looked up at the sound of his mother’s shout; the children all hushed as his mother had the sort of voice that you felt like you had to obey. Phil waited until the last of the kids had passed him before rising from his seat, swinging his backpack onto his shoulder, and stepping into the aisle. Dan just followed him as he had no clue what else he was meant to do. His mother led them – the year ones, the chaperoning parents, Phil and himself – from the bus and up the front steps of the aquarium. She gave the children more instructions and reminded them to be respectful and use their inside voices. Dan vaguely remembered getting the same instructions on numerous occasions, though he remembered more the scoldings he received when he ignored such directions. They made their way into the aquarium, and after gaining admittance, a tour guide appeared to lead them around the exhibits.

The tour of the aquarium took up all of their morning; it was past noon when they had finished and the most memorable moment of the day so far was Dan and Phil having to take one boy to the bathroom because the sight of the octopus made him feel the urge to vomit. When the tour guide waved goodbye and gave them a well-practiced farewell speech, Dan’s stomach was rumbling and nearly a dozen children had asked him more than once each when lunch was. It wasn’t even half past one, and the little buggers were demanding they be fed.

After the aquarium, the group clambered back into the bus to be taken to lunch. The school had booked a party room at a local pizzeria, which meant they were all in the same room. As they entered the room, Dan saw the tables and realized he’d be stuck refereeing a group of squabbling first years during the lunch period.

“Everyone have a seat, and sit with your buddy,” Dan’s mother told the children, “adults at the end of the table.”

Dan made his way to an end seat, but his mother took his arm. “Dan, dear, you and Phil can go take your break, sit in the main restaurant. Just tell the waiter you’re with the school group.”

“Oh, thanks Mrs. Howell, but we can stay here,” Phil began.

“No, go on. You two don’t have as much endurance when it comes to dealing with children,” his mum said, smiling at them.

“Fine,” Dan said; he grabbed Phil’s arm and tugged him back towards the door. He knew what his mother was doing, it wouldn’t work but he wasn’t going to complain if it meant he got to get away from the tiny demons.

As they exited the party room, Dan dropped Phil’s arm and looked at him. “You have to deal with them every week?”

“The kids? They’re nice!”

“They’re horrible,” Dan corrected. “Monstrous creatures.”

Phil rolled his eyes and dropped into a booth. “You just need to get used to them, Dan.”

Dan grunted in reply, taking the other side of the booth and grabbing a menu. He glanced over it before deciding to just get plain cheese and tossed it aside. He propped his arms onto the table and leaned forward. “You’re very strange, Phil.”

“What makes you say that?”

“For one, you enjoy the company of these monstrous creatures.”

“Stop calling them monstrous, grumpy.”

“Did you just call me grumpy?” Dan sat back, raising an eyebrow.

“I did, because you are.”

“Who the hell says grumpy?” he asked. “Other than someone’s grandma.”

“I say grumpy, as it’s a legitimate word.” Phil picked up his own menu and started looking down it.

Dan groaned, flopping forward and hitting his forehead on the table with a thunk. “I’m stuck with Dudley Do-Right for the next hour, aren’t I?” he muttered.

“Who says Dudley Do-Right?” Phil countered. Then he looked back to the menu. “I kind of want to try their specialty pizza, but the four-cheese sounds amazing as well.”

“I’m getting the cheese,” Dan said.

“Oh, could we share then? Each of us eat half?”

Dan looked up at him. “That’s something friends do.”

“Aren’t we friends?”

Dan bit his lip, his teeth clinking against his lip ring. Phil’s brow was furrowed and he looked genuinely confused. Also cute.

“Fine,” he grumbled. “We can share.”

“But we are friends, though,” Phil pressed.

“Let’s compromise at acquaintances,” Dan suggested, not meeting Phil’s eye. From the edge of his view, he saw Phil’s shoulders drop a little, then he shrugged and set down his menu.

“If you say so.”

Dan scowled at the tabletop.

“Afternoon, gents,” a waitress said, appearing from nowhere. “What can I get you?”

“Coke and one slice of cheese pizza,” Dan said in a bored voice.

“And you, luv?”

“Sweet tea and a slice of the specialty pizza,” Phil answered. The waitress wrote it down and walked away; Dan pulled out his phone and opened Tumblr.

“Don’t ignore me!” Phil whined. “I’ll get bored.”

“Do something on your phone,” Dan said unconcernedly.

“I’ve got to conserve the battery.”

Dan sighed and locked his phone. “What do you want me to do?”

“I dunno, talk to me.”

“Why do I need to talk to you?”

“Because we’re having lunch together?”

“We just happen to be sitting at the same table to eat,” Dan retorted.

Phil leaned forward on his elbows and brought together his eyebrows. “That means we’re having lunch together.”

“Whatever,” Dan said.

“You’re not very polite, are you?”

“Not really.”

“Why?”

Dan frowned at him. “Why do you care?”

Phil shrugged. “Usually people who aren’t polite aren’t happy.”

Dan snorted. “Okay, Dr. Phil, let’s talk about how I’m so rude because I’m secretly really sad.”

Phil leaned back and stroked an invisible beard. “You’re sad and angry at the world.”

Dan rolled his eyes. “Maybe I’m just not interested in talking with you.”

“If you weren’t interested in talking with me, you wouldn’t be continuing the conversation.”

“I’m not continuing the conversation.”

“You are, though. You’re replying to me with things that I have to reply to.”

Dan shook his head and picked up his phone again. “Can I just ignore you now?” Phil reached across the table and snatched Dan’s phone from his hand. “Hey!”

“I’m very stubborn,” Phil said, dropping the phone into his backpack. Dan glared at him.

“Why are you so intent on talking to me?” he snapped. “Why do you care?”

“I like talking to you,” Phil said.

“We’ve never talked before.”

“Not for long periods of time, no, but we’ve talked in the past. Besides, what better way to get to know someone than to talk to them?”

Dan held his hand out. “Can I have my phone back?”

“Will you just go on Tumblr and ignore me?”

Dan flicked his tongue over his lip ring in irritation. “If I say no, will you give it back?”

“If you mean it.”

“Fine. I won’t ignore you.”

Phil pulled Dan’s phone from his backpack and held it back out to Dan. Dan took it, stood, and switched sides of the booth. “What are you doing?” Phil asked.

“Going on Tumblr but not ignoring you,” Dan answered. He held the phone so Phil would be able to see his dash as he scrolled.

“Does that count?” Phil said, raising an eyebrow.

“As long as you don’t freak out about any random dick pics, yeah.”

Phil went pink, and Dan chuckled. He angled his body to be sure Phil could see and scrolled slower than he normally did.

The waitress appeared with their drinks and food, and smiled at them as she set them down. Dan gave her a nod, and Phil said thank you.

“You two are so cute,” she said to them, still smiling.

“Sorry?” Dan said.

“You’re cute!” the waitress insisted. “You make a cute pair.”

Dan went red in the face. “We’re not together,” he said.

“Well, we’re friends,” Phil added. “But not together.”

The waitress looked disbelieving, but she nodded. “If you say so,” she said, turning away. Dan looked back at Phil, who was equally red.

“I’m going to the other side now,” he said.

“Sure,” Phil said, not meeting his eye.

Dan nodded, still in his seat. He had somehow managed to lean on Phil’s shoulder while they had been on Tumblr, and Phil’s face was close to his. He could tell why his mum shipped them; Phil really was quite attractive.

Phil glanced towards him, then down at the pizza. “Shall we eat?”

Dan nodded; he got up and quickly moved back to the opposite side of the bench. He grabbed a plate and lifted a slice of the pizza. “Cheers,” he muttered, and raised it to his mouth.

“Cheers,” Phil echoed.

Twenty minutes later, the school group had finished and they had gotten back into the bus to drive to the Tower of London. Dan was unsure why his mother was taking the class both to the aquarium and the Tower of London in the same day, but he didn’t voice his confusion. Phil and he were stuck at the back of the group to make sure no one wandered away or got stuck in an Iron Maiden. They passed through the dungeons and the torture machines rather quickly, because it was a first year class, but Dan caught sight of one plaque that made him laugh.

“Phil,” he hissed, “look.”

Phil leaned over and looked over the informational sign in front of the large machine, a table with two arms that were meant to be strapped to the legs and pulled out to the sides. Phil mouthed the words as he read, then he went pink. “… used primarily on men caught during sodomy?” he muttered. He gave a visible shiver and looked away from the machine quickly.

“That would be my machine,” Dan sniggered.

Phil looked up at him, his eyebrows drawn together. “Wait, what?”

Dan raised his own eyebrows. “Dude, I’m gay? Sodomy is my jam?” He said it as if Phil should already know, even though Dan figured he probably didn’t. He did want to test Phil a little.

Phil looked back at him sharply; then he hastily nodded and glanced away. “I guess that makes sense? Gruesome sense.”

Dan rolled his eyes and moved on. The group had gotten ahead of them, which had been why he’d felt confident enough to point the particular torture machine out to Phil. Of course, the reason behind his choice to point it out had been to gauge Phil’s reaction. If Dan’s mum was going to ship them, she would be shipping them with her whole heart and it would be good to know if Phil even swung that way. Once he could prove to his mum that Phil was straight, she’d stop making him help with her class and interacting with Phil. There may have been a tiny part of him that almost wished that Phil was gay, Phil was after all a very pretty boy, but it wouldn’t be worth it to hope. Even if he was, Dan was definitely not his type. Phil was the innocent kind, Dan was the kind to beat up innocent people.

He zoned out during the rest of the time spent within the Tower, and when it was time to return to the bus to travel back to Reading he was grateful that every one of the kids were all exhausted. He ended up sitting next to Phil again in the bus, and shared his headphones. Phil fell asleep halfway through the drive, and his body slumped against Dan's. Dan looked down at Phil's sleeping face, his hands curled together inside Dan's pocket, and some rebellious part of him felt sympathetic to the ship his mum had created. Phil's warmth eventually dragged him into sleep as well, and his head dropped on top of Phil's.


	2. part two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A boy with a broken heart, who never learned to confess his thoughts to anyone but the moon, meets sunshine in the form of a boy in pastel pink shoes. In dreary England, all light is pale and fleeting, but the sun shines from his smile and his eyes, and the boy's broken heart is mended, put back together with glitter glue. In the end, the one winning in the situation will of course be Mrs. Howell, who shipped it before they even met.

* * *

 

_**part two** _

 

 

Dan spent almost all of Sunday sleeping, and the rest of it playing Call of Duty in his room. His mum ordered pizza and brought him a box full and a roll of paper towels, reminding him to not stay up too late that night. He’d thanked her before returning to slaughtering twelve-year-olds on online multiplayer.

 

He didn’t see Phil again for a while, or at least not long enough to count as a meeting. They passed in the halls once or twice, and sometimes Phil waved to him but there was no reason for them to stop to talk to each other. Phil and he were of two different breeds in two different social circles; he was the angry punk brat who people feared because he could either beat them to a pulp himself, or have someone else do it for him, while Phil was sweet and innocent, someone who helped people with their homework and offered to pass out papers during class. They were polar opposites, from their very clothing style to their vocabularies. There were no reasons for them to even know each other's names; they didn’t even have any classes together, even if they were both seniors.

 

The social hierarchy within their school was a rather rigid one; if one member of a particular circle tried to merge into another farther off circle, especially if was drastically different, it was met with reluctance and sometimes hostility. It didn’t help that the school had a gang problem, with students taking sides in an actual street war between two of the city’s bigger organized crime families, and several ‘clubs’ were really recruiting points for 22nd Street Syndicate and Crowley's Boys’ and such. For Dan, he had been pulled into the darker side of the school in freshman year, and even though it was unwilling and unwitting, since then he reaped many benefits from acting tough and cold and on occasion beating to a bloody pulp people who irritated him. His social circle was as far from Phil as it could be, and in all honesty, Dan didn’t really care enough about the twink of a boy to ruin his reputation and comfortable status to be his friend.

 

It wasn't until March, nearly a month since that trip to London, that his mother asked him to help with her class again. Apparently, the school had called and said that he didn't have enough community service hours to graduate, and she had suggested that he volunteer as a teaching assistant. Dan hadn't been able to convince her to just let him pick up trash off the side of a highway. He was stuck helping her on a regular basis at that point, which meant having to interact with Phil.

 

It wasn't that he didn't like Phil, the boy was adorable, it was more he disliked how much his mother seemed to ship them. She kept subtly mentioning him all the time, tiny little hints every so often that when piled up and laid out together practically spelled out “DAN YOU SHOULD DATE THIS BOY.” It didn't take long for it to begin irritating him, but unfortunately he would never be willing to admit to his mum that it annoyed him. She just wanted to see him happy again.

 

And honestly, he wanted to see himself happy again.

 

“Dan, did you hear me?”

 

“Sorry, what?” Dan looked up, meeting Phil's gaze from across the table. It was a Saturday, and they were stuck at the school making example crafts for the next week's lessons. Phil was trying to make a penguin, Dan thought, but to him it had a striking resemblance to a trash can.

 

“I asked if you could go get a bottle of cleaner and paper towels, I spilled glitter glue on the table and my hands.”

  
“Sure,” Dan said, pushing up from the table. He was not positive as to why Phil's trashcan penguin needed glitter glue, but wasn't about to voice it. He grabbed a bottle of solvent from the cupboard as well as a roll of towels. He set them next to Phil and dropped back into his chair, which was still much too small.

 

“Thank you, Dan.” Phil began to wipe up the mess he'd made as Dan watched him. Phil's hair was pushed back that day, sloppily and haphazardly attractive. Unbidden, a curious thought popped up in the back of Dan's mind concerning the idea of personally getting to ensure Phil's hair was in such a state. It was probably that way because Phil had just been in a rush that morning, but it was fun to imagine running his hands through his hair to make it stick up. Dan's gaze fell to the tabletop, his train of thought traveling through his memory to the last person’s hair he'd been allowed to play with. Or rather occasionally got to play with. Carter had been rather prickly about his hair, often refusing Dan to even go near it, but in those rare moments when he had been too tired or too drunk to care, Dan had relished getting to run his fingers through his hair. It was soft, luxurious even, and it always smelled definitively like Carter; like cigarette smoke and Axe shampoo. It had been Dan's favorite scent.

 

Dan shook his head quickly. He didn't need to be thinking about Carter anymore. Carter sure as hell wasn't thinking about him, so why should he bother?

 

“Hey, Dan?”

 

Dan looked up to meet Phil's gaze, and he was almost startled by its soft and almost comforting concern. The other boy had set down his glitter glue and DIY penguin. “What?”

 

“Are you… Are you okay?”

 

Dan furrowed his brow. “'Course. Why wouldn't I be?”

 

“I dunno, you just have a far away look in your eyes.”

 

Dan shifted his gaze down to the table, not knowing how to respond. However, before he could, Phil spoke again.

 

“Not the good kind of far away, though,” he said in a soft voice that Dan barely heard.

 

“It's nothing,” Dan said.

 

“Doesn't look like nothing.”

 

“Well, it is,” snapped Dan, suddenly irritated with the boy in front of him and his distracting eyes.

 

“Dan, you can talk to me, you know.”

 

“There's nothing to talk about.”

 

“I'm just saying, if there was – ”

 

“Phil,” Dan barked. “Fuck off.”

 

Dan regretted it almost immediately; Phil's face fell into a closed, disappointed expression. His words had stung him.

 

“Right,” Phil muttered. “I'll do that.”

 

Dan's tongue flicked against his lip ring, his mind unsure of what to do next. So he just grabbed a cardboard tube and started making it into a penguin.

 

He didn't see Phil again for a while, but he thought it was more a matter of he didn't want to see Phil. He had a habit of being rude to people who got near him; he'd always thought of it as a test, whoever stuck around obviously cared enough to not mind his gruff exterior, though lately, he'd been rethinking that. Not just because of Phil, though. Phil was just another sorry soul Dan had injured along his way. He'd been thinking about Carter.

 

In a sense, only the smallest, quietest voice in Dan's mind understood that he'd driven Carter away, that his attempts to prevent his own injury had done the exact opposite and hurt Carter as well. The truth was that he and Carter hadn't ever been a good match, but Dan's attitude had spoiled the last parts of their relationship that could have been salvaged. They fought, they screamed, they cried, they kissed and fucked whenever Dan's mum was out and they were left alone in the house, just to get dressed and fight about something else. He should have stopped to realize that his harsh and rude behavior only fueled both of their anger, he should have been able to see in the moment that he was sabotaging his own attempts to save a broken relationship.

 

Of course, the biggest problem had been that Carter hadn't been trying at all.

 

“Daniel, I've got a PTA meeting that I completely forgot about,” Dan's mum said. Dan looked up from his cereal with eyes half gummed up by sleep. It was a Saturday morning, his free Saturday that month, and his mother was digging through a drawer with a protein shake in one hand and her hair curler in the other.

 

“Kay,” he said.

 

“Have you seen my red folder?”

 

“The folder or the binder?”

 

“The folder.”

 

Dan shrugged. “Did you look on your desk?”

 

His mum put down the shake and rushed from the room, haphazardly fixing up her hair. Dan went back to his cereal, unconcerned. His mum had always been forgetful, but it always got worse the closest to the end of the year and her students exams. The stress would scramble her mind, fortunately only getting bad just as school let out for summer so she would be able to recover her brain before having to be thrown back to the mercy of a large group of seven year olds.

 

“Found it!”

 

“Kay,” replied Dan disinterestedly.

 

His mum hurried back into the kitchen and shoved the folder in her briefcase. She'd given up on curling her hair, but it looked vaguely wavy, almost as if it had been braided for several hours. “I've got to leave; I'll see you later, I don't know when; I've got errands I need to run.”

 

“I'll be here,” Dan assured her. His mum paused on her rush out the door to kiss his forehead, then she was gone in a flurry of papers.

 

Dan finished his cereal and put the bowl and spoon in the dishwasher. He stretched his arms above his head, yawning a bit. He stood there a moment, considering what to do with the day. He was still in his pajamas, however as he had nowhere to go, there would be no reason for him to dress. He had been a bit surprised that his mother hadn't made him put a shirt on before he ate; Dan slept in just pajama bottoms or boxers, and normally when he stumbled into the kitchen without dressing his mother made him go back and put a tee shirt on before she let him pour his cereal. He chalked it up to her distraction that morning, and decided to just stay in his current state of dress, or rather the lack of it; he had nowhere to go and no one to see, why not?

 

Deciding to catch up on Doctor Who, Dan walked from the kitchen to the sitting room and dropped onto the couch. He flicked on the TV, then opened the DVR and played the last episode in the recordings.

 

He was halfway through the third episode and beginning to really appreciate Peter Capaldi’s skills when the doorbell rang and nearly made him jump out of his skin.

 

Dan rose, a little suspicious, and crossed the sitting room to the stairs leading to the split foyer and the front door. Whoever it was wasn't looking through the windows on either side of the door, which meant he'd have to open it to see who it was. He weighed the possibilities that his mum had ordered a pizza for him without saying anything versus the likelihood that it was someone trying to sell him something.

 

Figuring it would do no good to just stand there, Dan made his way down the short flight of steps and to the front door, just as the person standing outside chose to ring the bell again.

 

“I'm right here!” Dan called, yanking the door open to glare at whoever was on the other side of it. Then his attitude faltered. “Phil?”

 

Phil was standing on his doorstep, holding his galaxy backpack and staring unblinkingly with a slightly open mouth at Dan’s chest, which Dan at that point realized he still had yet to cover after getting out of bed three hours or so earlier.

 

“Erm,” Phil said.

 

“What are you doing here?” asked Dan, a studded eyebrow raising.

 

“I came to… to bring the, um, the thingies.”

 

At that point, Dan rolled his eyes. “That's really descriptive. Anything else?”

 

“You've got a tattoo…” Phil whispered.

 

Dan was taken aback. He glanced downward, at the coiled eastern dragon that rested on his neck and collar bones, its tail draped down Dan's chest. He’d gotten it on his eighteenth birthday, nearly a year previous. “Erm, yeah I do.”

 

Phil didn't respond. He still hadn't met Dan's gaze, which was making Dan just a little uncomfortable and a lot curious.

 

“Can I help you?” Dan asked, shifting to lean an arm on the door.

 

“Erm…”

 

Dan raised an eyebrow. “Take your time, I wouldn't want you to burst a brain cell.”

 

Phil shook his head with a jerk. “I'm sorry, I brought over the stuff your mum needed.”

 

That caused Dan's raised eyebrow to go from amused to confused. “She's at a PTA meeting, didn't you know?”

 

“Erm, no. No, I didn't.” Phil's gaze flicked downward again, then snapped back up to Dan's. Dan narrowed his eyes a little – was Phil blushing?

 

“Well, she's not here now. I'll tell her you dropped by.”

 

“Oh, but we needed to go over the test draft for Tuesday!”

 

“I guess you'll just have to wait, because she isn't here,” Dan said slowly. He leaned in and rapped his knuckles lightly against Phil's skull. “I dunno if you can understand with all the echoing in there.”

 

“Hey!” Phil protested, and batted his hand away. “That's rude.”

 

Dan chuckled, smiling at Phil's affronted expression. “Don't you remember?”

 

“Remember what?”

 

Dan stepped forward, and leaned conspiratorially closer. “I am rude.”

 

Phil's face was pink and his lips were downturned when Dan closed the door. Dan shook his head as he moved back to his seat on the couch. He picked up the TV remote, but before playing the show, he paused to to process what had just happened. Dan shook his head again and played the program.

 

On Monday, Dan took the bus to school since his mother’s car was in the shop; she’d gotten a ride with a co-worker but he’d elected to simply take the bus. His stop was one of the first on the route, so he got his choice of seats. He settled on a bench near the back, put in his headphones, and leaned his head on the window. He shut his eyes, and drifted back to sleep.

 

He was being prodded in the shoulder. Dan blearily opened his eyes and looked up. “Phil?” he mumbled.

 

“Hello,” said Phil, whose bright choice of clothing matched his tone of voice. The boy was dressed in a pale yellow shirt and white jeans that morning, and he wore a ring of little yellow blossoms in his hair.

 

“I thought you had a car,” Dan said as he sat up straighter to look Phil in the eye.

 

“I do,” Phil replied. “Could I have an earbud?”

 

Dan hesitated. “What are you doing on the bus then?”

 

Phil didn’t answer right away, rather he licked at his lips and glanced downward. “It’s cold; my car has no heat, the bus does. Ipso facto.”

 

Dan raised an eyebrow at him, but he plucked one bud from his ear and held it out to Phil. “You do know that ‘ipso facto’ doesn’t fit into that sentence.”

 

“I don’t particularly care,” Phil told him. He pushed the earbud into his right ear, then leaned his head back on the seat.

 

Dan looked down on him, at his resting face and his long eyelashes and eyebrows that were lighter than his hair. Phil certainly was attractive.

 

Dan realized that he was fiddling with his lip ring and stopped, not wanting to damage the still healing piercing. Just because Phil was attractive did not mean that Dan found him attractive. Dan leaned back on the window; he turned up the volume on his music as the last song ended, and a new one began. He couldn’t immediately remember the title, but it was by Troye Sivan, an up and coming artist from Australia. Dan was fond of Sivan, even if his style was a little soft compared to other artists he liked. Then the lyrics began, and he recognized it.

 

_“Wrapped my thoughts around your mind. Wrapped your body around mine. Play it back and press rewind.”_

 

Phil stirred, and Dan wondered if he should skip this particular song; it made him think of Carter, and he didn’t want Phil to catch a glimpse of his psyche.

 

_“To when you traced your fingers, drew my spine. Lost it’s beat in and so I find. Starve my heart of touch and time.”_

 

Dan glanced at Phil, but he wasn’t moving. He thought it was just another song. Dan sat back; if he skipped it now, the other boy would guess something was amiss. He left it.

 

“You know, I like this artist,” Phil said, “he’s good.”

 

“Yeah,” Dan answered shortly.

 

_“Distance makes the heart grow fonder, said by someone stronger than me.”_

 

“This is one of my favorites of his,” Phil told him.

 

“Is it?”

 

“Mhmm. I like the rhythm.”

 

Dan nodded vaguely, wanting for him to just stop talking to him so he could brood. He picked up his phone and woke the screen; he hit skip with just a third of the song left, because he couldn’t think with it playing and his memories of his ex replaying in his mind. Instead All Time Low’s “Somewhere in Neverland” began, a song that wouldn’t remind him of anyone and Dan blanked the screen; he leaned back on the window and stared out at the snow that had once been pristine and white but was now an ugly brown as it got thrown up and tossed aside by tires travelling the road.

 

A weight fell on Dan’s shoulder, and he looked up quickly in surprise. Phil had dropped his head on his shoulder. His eyes were closed and his hand was sitting on the bench between their legs, his pinkie finger almost touching Dan’s leg.

 

Dan was careful not to move his shoulder, but he shifted his leg away from Phil’s hand.

 

Phil wasn’t in any of Dan’s classes; once they exited the bus Dan figured it would be the last time he saw Phil for a while, so he waved and gave him half a smile before finding his own group of friends and making his way to homeroom. At the end of the day, Dan had spotted Phil in the corridors once but hadn’t stopped to speak with him, after all, there wasn’t a reason. He and Phil weren’t friends, really. They just knew each other.

 

But that afternoon on the bus, he was sitting in the same seat he’d taken that morning, and Phil dropped down next to him.

 

“Hi,” Dan said, more of a question than a greeting.

 

“Test draft for Tuesday,” Phil said. “I was meant to bring it to your mum Saturday, but she was out.”

 

“At a PTA meeting, yeah, I remember. So?”

 

“She asked if I could bring it by today instead.”

 

“So, you’re getting off at my stop today then?” Dan asked. “To go over something with my mum?”

 

“Yes,” Phil said with a nod.

 

Dan looked away and exhaled forcefully. “Why did Mum have to get such a helpful assistant?” he muttered.

 

Phil elbowed him in the side gently. “Are you going to offer me an earbud or do I have to ask?”

 

Dan rolled his eyes, then took out his phone and headphones, and handed one earbud to Phil. “Your earbud, Your Highness.”

 

“Thank you, Daniel,” Phil replied in a snooty voice. Dan pointedly rolled his eyes once more; he plugged in the headphones, opened Spotify and hit play on the last song that had been playing, “If You Only Knew” by Shinedown.

 

Only when the bus driver applied the brakes at his stop and they were exiting the bus did Dan realize that his mother wouldn’t be home for another two hours, which meant Phil would be waiting at his house for that entire time. Just the two of them. Dan paused his music, looked at Phil, then looked down at his phone and at the time. Quarter past four. His mother consistently arrived home at 6:21.

 

Dan let out a groan.

 

“What?” Phil asked.

 

Dan looked back at him and considered explaining the whole debacle of how his mum shipped them and given that she wouldn’t be home for another two hours, her reaction to learning that he and Phil had spent those two hours sitting by themselves in an otherwise empty house would consist of a lot of winking and innuendoes and raised eyebrows.

 

“Erm, my mum doesn’t get home until after six.”

 

“Oh, yeah she told me that.”

 

Dan raised one eyebrow. “She did? Then why didn’t you go home?”

 

Phil shrugged. “I figured an hour or so wouldn’t make a difference. Besides, she told me that you guys order pizza on Monday nights and that I could have some if I was still around.”

 

Dan shook his head at Phil slowly. “You’re willing to sacrifice two hours of your day for crappy delivery pizza?”

 

“It’s better than the tuna casserole my mum always makes on Mondays,” Phil replied.

 

Dan just shook his head again and began to walk towards his house; Phil followed him, whistling softly. Dan unlocked his front door and stepped inside, letting Phil walk past him before closing it.

 

“Erm, so…” Dan said.

 

“Erm…” Phil replied.

 

“I normally just play video games until Mum gets home,” Dan told him.

 

“Are you going to play video games with or without me, then?” Phil asked.

 

“With, I suppose,” Dan mumbled. “I’ve got Xbox One and 360, and there’s a Wii in the living room.”

 

“I’ve only got a PlayStation 3 at home,” Phil said.

 

“Damn, now we’re on opposite sides of the gaming world,” Dan sighed. “I guess you’ll just have to put up with my superior consoles.”

 

Phil rolled his eyes at him. “The whole PlayStation versus Xbox thing is overrated. In all honesty, Xbox and PlayStation should be teaming up against Nintendo.”

 

Dan raised his eyebrows. “Phil, that was surprisingly deep.”

 

“Thank you, I do try.”

 

Dan took the steps up to the main floor. “So, Xbox it is. It’s back in my room.”

 

“Is this your way of luring me back to your bedroom?” Phil asked.

 

Dan snorted. “Sure, Phil, I’m secretly in love with you and want nothing more than to have you under me.”

 

He flicked a lightswitch, looking back at Phil, who was pink-faced. He rolled his eyes. “I’m kidding, dude. I’m not going to jump you or anything.”

 

“Right,” mumbled Phil, who wasn't looking at him. “Erm, so what do you want to play?”

 

“I’ve got Halo, Fallout, Call of Duty, Destiny,” Dan listed. “I might have a couple of other multiplayer games, but that’s the gist of it.” He walked down the hall, Phil following still, and dumped his backpack by his desk and turned on the light. His bedroom was messy; clothes and books scattering the floor, an empty pizza box sitting at the end of his bed. The bed was unmade, and a pair of Dan’s boxers lay on the floor directly in front of them.

 

“Wow, Dan,” Phil said. “First time I’ve been to your room and you’re already flashing me your underpants.”

 

“Shut up,” Dan muttered, grabbing the boxers and tossing them towards his hamper. There were bean bag chairs thrown in a corner, which he grabbed two of and dropped in front of his TV and consoles. “Since you’re a PlayStation user, how about we play Halo?”

 

“Why is that relevant?” Phil asked.

 

“Halo is console specific,” Dan told him. “It’s only on Xbox?”

 

Phil flushed. “Oh. I’m not much of a gamer.”

 

Dan rolled his eyes once more and approached the setup. He turned on the TV, then the Xbox 360 and took out Halo 3 from his drawer of games. “Have a seat then.”

 

Phil set his backpack on the floor, then grabbed the blue bean bag and dropped into it. He pulled off his jacket and set it on the floor next to him. Dan tugged off his own coat, which he tossed towards his bed. The room was fairly warm, so he tugged off his jumper as well, leaving him in a loose muscle shirt. Phil glanced at him, then down at his feet. Dan handed Phil a controller, then grabbed his own and signed into his profile. “There’s a guest account you can use for today,” he said.

 

“I have an Xbox account, actually,” Phil said.

 

“Is it a Live account?”

 

“I’ve used it recently,” Phil replied.

 

Dan shook his head. “No, is it an Xbox Live account, meaning not local?”

 

Phil blushed a little again. “Oh, yeah it is.”

 

“Alright, hang on, let me sign back out so you can download it.” Dan opened the sign in screen again and signed himself out, then scrolled to the end of the list of users to where the download profile option was. He handed the controller to Phil, as it was the player one controller, and watched Phil type in his email address, and closed his eyes while Phil entered a password.

 

“Done,” Phil said, and Dan opened his eyes. Then he snorted.

 

“Your gamertag is AmazingPhil?” he asked, looking over at him.

 

“Yeah,” Phil said with half a laugh. “My mum made it for me.”

 

Dan laughed again. “Nice.”

 

“Well, yours is weirder! What does ‘danisnotonfire’ mean anyway?”

 

“I think it’s rather obvious that it means I’m not on fire.”

 

Then Phil laughed, and Dan looked back over at him with a smile. “I guess that makes sense?”

 

“It makes no sense whatsoever,” Dan corrected. “I regret my twelve year old self.”

 

“Doesn’t everyone? I mean, I let my mum make my Xbox profile as a twelve year old.”

 

Dan snorted once more and shook his head. “Let’s just play the game, before we get too deep into our twelve year old selves.”

 

“That sounds less like we’re discussing our twelve year old selves…” Phil began.

 

Dan turned to face him with a reddening face. “Why?” he hissed. Phil merely laughed and shrugged his shoulders. Dan snatched the controller from him, still rather mortified, and opened the disk tray on the Xbox. He pushed the disk into it and closed it with a finger before leaning back in his bean bag. He cast a glance at Phil from the corner of his eye, and saw that Phil was still laughing quietly.

 

“You’re the strangest person I’ve ever met,” Dan told him.

 

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Phil said, sobering himself to sit up properly in his bean bag and adopt a prim expression.

 

“You must’ve heard me wrong then,” Dan chuckled.

 

Phil stuck his tongue out at him, but before he could reply the opening music of the game began.

 

“Oh, that’s really pretty!” Phil said.

 

“What, the music?”

 

“Yeah, it’s really pretty!”

 

Dan rolled his eyes; “Of course it is,” he muttered. The start screen loaded then and he selected multiplayer, a map and a weapon output. “You ready?” he asked.

 

“As I’ll ever be,” Phil laughed.

 

“Good, cause I’m about to kick your ass,” Dan told him.

 

Phil laughed again, and Dan turned to smile at him. They met eyes, and Phil’s laugh calmed to a warm smile. It was a beautiful smile, just as beautiful as his laugh.

 

Dan suddenly looked away, back to the screen. His smile was now forced, but he was sure Phil wouldn’t notice; he hoped Phil wouldn’t notice. He moved his character away from the spawn point, unthinking of where to go.

 

“What are the controls?” Phil asked him. Dan glanced down from his half of the screen to Phil’s.

 

“Left stick to move, right stick to move the camera,” Dan said, “Y to switch weapons, B is melee, X is specials, A is jump, right trigger is shoot, right bumper is reload or activate a thing, left trigger is throw a grenade.”

 

“Erm, that’s a lot of buttons.”

 

“That’s all of them that matter.”

 

“Ooh, what’s that?”

 

Phil was standing next to a purple machine. “That is a Ghost,” Dan explained. “Like a speeder.”

 

“Oh, how do I use it?”

 

“Right bumper.”

 

“Erm, what is that?”

 

Dan shifted his bean bag closer to Phil’s and leaned closer to him; he put a hand on Phil’s controller, flicking one of his finger away from the front of the controller. “This flat button right here,” he said, his voice dropping as he was closer to Phil now.

 

“Oh. Does that mean that this one is the right trigger?” Phil asked him, pointing to it.

 

“Yeah, it is.”

 

“And I use it to shoot?”

 

“Yep,” Dan answered.

 

Phil took the controller back, flicked the right stick, then pulled right trigger. Dan looked up at the TV screen.

 

“You motherfucker!” Dan laughed. “You killed me already!”

 

“All’s fair in love and war,” Phil said.

 

Dan’s character respawned as Dan looked back to him. “What are you insinuating, Phil?”

 

Phil blushed. “It’s just an expression, Dan.”

 

Dan raised an eyebrow, but he leaned back in his bean bag and moved his character up a ramp; he then sniped Phil.

 

“Hey!” cried the other boy; Phil reached over and whacked Dan’s shoulder. “You were screen peeking!”

 

“I was not!” Dan protested. “I am offended.”

 

“You were!”

 

“Was not!”

 

“I get a free kill because you were screen peaking.”

 

“I was not screen peaking,” Dan insisted. “I swear on my mother.”

 

“On your mother? Really?”

 

“You know my mother, you know she’d rip me limb from limb if I lied about something so serious.”

 

Phil snorted. “Fine. I’ll accept that.”

 

“Thank you,” Dan sniffed. Then he shot Phil again.

 

After an hour or so, Dan tossed his controller onto the floor at the end of a match to lean back and stretch. “You getting tired of playing?” he asked Phil, looking over at him.

 

Phil set his controller down more gently as he let a yawn part his lips. “If you are,” he said, flopping back in his bean bag and leaning on the foot of Dan’s bed. He’d scooted his bean bag backwards while they’d been playing to lean on it, Dan guessed. Phil lifted his arms over his head, stretching joints that had become stagnant in the position he’d held. Phil’s shirt rode up to expose pale flesh and sparse dark hairs that dipped into the front of his jeans. Dan flicked his tongue over his lip ring, imagining what those few hairs led to.

 

“Is there another game you’d like to play?” Phil asked.

 

“Sorry, what?” Dan looked up, suddenly feeling only a little guilty and a lot awkward.

 

“Is there a different game that you’d rather play?” Phil repeated, dropping his arms and, unfortunately, his shirt as well.

 

“I dunno,” Dan sighed. A suggestion popped up in his mind, created by one of the many voices belonging to his mind that never stopped shouting; _“GAY CHICKEN”_ echoed through his brain.

 

Dan turned away and hoped his wasn’t blushing.

 

“You said you had Call of Duty?”

 

“Yeah, but I’ve played that a lot. How about we watch TV or a movie?”

 

“Sure,” Phil replied. “But you’d have to extract me from this bean bag, I don’t know if I’ll be able to get up on my own.”

 

Dan laughed as he shook his head. “Don’t worry, I’ve got Netflix on the Xbox.”

 

“Oh, alright then.”

 

Dan grabbed his controller and exited to the home screen. “Xbox, open Netflix.”

 

The Xbox began loading Netflix; Phil whistled. “I didn’t know the 360 had voice controls,” Phil said.

 

“Some do, some don’t,” Dan told him. “What do you want to watch?”

 

Phil ‘hmm’ed softly as it loaded; he was still thinking when Dan selected his profile and his continue watching list opened.

 

“Free!” Phil gasped. “I love that anime!”

 

“Really?” Dan said. “I didn’t figure you as an anime lover.”

 

“I’m a gigantic weeaboo,” Phil confessed.

 

“Alright then,” Dan chuckled, “what episode?”

 

“I’ve seen all of them, just pick up where you left off.”

 

Dan flicked the left stick, selected Free! and resumed the last episode he’d watched.

 

About halfway through the episode, his phone buzzed at him and he absently picked it up to see what it was.

 

“Is that your mum?” Phil asked.

 

“No, Snapchat,” Dan replied. He opened the snap his friend Zoe had sent, then wrinkled his nose. “Ugh, look at this,” he added, leaning closer to Phil to show him the picture of the lovely Zoe and her lovelier boyfriend. “Look at that. They're so cute, it's nauseating.”

 

“You find all sweet and adorable things nauseating, Dan.”

 

That made him laugh; “I guess you've discovered the core of my soul then.”

 

“Rude, sad, pathetic, Xbox user, and disgusted by cute things,” Phil ticked them off on his fingers.

 

“You forgot gay,” Dan said without thinking.

 

“Oh, right, obnoxiously gay.”

 

“Whoa, how am I obnoxiously gay?” Dan protested.

 

Phil took a moment to ponder this before he answered with: “In the fact that you find cute things nauseating when you yourself are adorable.”

 

“How does that make me obnoxiously gay?” asked Dan, just a little confused. Then his furrowed brow deepened. “Wait, did you just call me adorable?”

 

“Well, you are!” Phil insisted. “Like a puppy.”

 

“I'm not a puppy!”

 

“You're right, puppies aren't quite gay enough.”

 

Dan elbowed Phil in the arm. “I'm neither a puppy nor obnoxiously gay. I may be obnoxious, however that has no effect on my gayness.”

 

Phil shrugged his shoulders with an expression portraying acceptant resignation. “If you say so.”

 

“If I’m a puppy, then you’re a princess.”

 

Phil raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you mean prince?”

 

“No, princess, specifically.”

 

“Sure, Dan.”

 

Dan rolled his eyes pointedly and turned back to the show, letting his phone drop onto the bean bag chair.

 

“What's your snapchat?” Phil asked him suddenly.

 

“Same as my gamertag, why?”

 

“If this is going to occur as often as it has in the past, we might as well accept the inevitable friendship we're facing.”

 

Dan snorted. “Is that fancy psychobabble for you want to follow me on Snapchat?”

 

“Possibly.”

 

Dan shook his head as he picked up his phone again. “What are you called?”

 

“Is it too cheesy for me to say that it's AmazingPhil?”

 

Dan looked up at him. “I thought your mum picked that.”

 

“She did, however I happened to see myself as quite amazing, so I kept it.”

 

Dan let out a soft chuckle. “If you say so.”

 

“Oh, shut up and just follow me back.”

 

“Getting antsy, are we?”

 

“No, I like this next scene.”

 

“Oh.”

 

Dan’s phone buzzed again and he unlocked it to check it again. Zoe was still posting to her story, this time she and Alfie were holding a heart in their hands. “Oh, the straightness!” Dan groaned. He tapped the camera and held up, making a horrified face. He replied to her snap with that photo and the caption _“UR SO CUTE IT’S NASTY”_. Phil sniggered.

 

“Are you reading my snapchats?” Dan gasped, pretending offence.

 

“Maybe,” Phil said. “Saves me from having to look at her story later.”

 

“Oh, you’re friends with Zoe?”

 

“We have more mutual friends than you probably realize, Dan.”

 

Dan shrugged his shoulders. “Probably.” He locked his phone and dropped it onto his lap to stare at the screen. When it buzzed again, he picked it up and threw it across the room onto his bed.

 

“No more nauseating adorable coupleness!” he called after it. Phil laughed again.

 

“I take it you’re single, then?” Phil asked him, still chuckling.

 

“As a pringle,” Dan replied.

 

“Aren’t pringles kept in large stacks in cans though?”

 

“As a bacterium,” Dan corrected.

 

“What?”

 

“They’re single celled organisms.”

 

“Oh yeah…”

 

Dan rolled his eyes and turned back to the TV. “I take it you’re not single?” He asked.

 

“Nah, I’m as bacterial as you are.”

 

That made Dan snort. “That sounds like we’ve got a fucking disease or something.”

 

“Yeah, the lack of a partner to fuck is a symptom,” Phil replied. Dan laughed again.

 

“It’s caused by prolonged exposure to sports anime,” Dan snickered.

 

Phil let out another laugh; Dan shifted in his chair to grin at him. Phil met his gaze, and his laughter calmed to a bright smile.

 

“You have dimples,” Phil said in a soft voice.

 

“Um, yeah.”

 

“They’re adorable.”

 

“You just love calling me adorable,” Dan murmured.

 

“Because you are adorable.”

 

Dan’s cheeks heated. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were flirting.”

 

Phil’s lips curled into an embarrassed smile, his own face reddening. “Just… commenting…”

 

Dan raised an eyebrow at him, but turned back away with the same smile on his face. He didn’t think of anything else to say, so he stayed quiet.

 

They watched three episodes in near perfect silence before Dan heard his mother’s car pulling into the driveway. Dan hit pause and pushed himself to his feet. He stretched, pulling his arms above his head, and looked down at Phil. The other boy was curled up in his bean bag chair, having fallen asleep. Dan knelt down beside him and poked his shoulder. When Phil didn’t stir, he reached up and brushed Phil’s fringe out of his face. He shifted, but didn’t wake.

 

“Phil?” Dan whispered. Phil let out a breath, and the warm air fell on Dan’s neck; Dan hadn’t realized how close he’d gotten to him, there was just a few inches between Phil and he.

 

“Dan? Are you home?”

 

Dan leaned back at the sound of his mother’s voice, then he glanced back at Phil. How had his heartbeat gotten so high in just a few seconds, only a few intakes of air mingled between the two of them? He stood up hastily, stepping away from Phil and out of his room. He ran a shaking hand through his hair, looking back at him. His heart rate was still elevated from the proximity.

 

Dan didn’t just think Phil was attractive, he was attracted.

 

_Fuck._

 

He turned away quickly and walked away, towards the front entrance and where his mother was. He found her standing by the foyer table, reading through the mail she’d brought in with her.

 

“Hi, sweetheart, is Phil here?” his mother asked him. “I asked if he’d stop with you so he could give me the test drafts for Tuesday.”

 

“Yeah, he’s in my room, he fell asleep while we were watching Netflix.”

 

Dan’s mother suddenly smirked. “And chilling?”

 

Dan glared at her. “Mum, cut it out, okay? Stop trying to throw us together.”

 

His mother’s smirk became defensive and a little aloof. “I’m sure I have no idea what you mean, Daniel.”

 

“Yes you do, you know exactly what I mean,” Dan snapped. “I don’t need you to find me a boyfriend, I don’t need a boyfriend.”

 

“I wasn’t –”

 

“You’ve been trying to get us together since that first time you conned me into helping with your class, don’t deny it. I’m telling you know, it’s never going to happen and you have to quit it before you freak Phil out completely.”

 

His mother’s face was startled. “Oh… Dan, I didn’t realize… I didn’t mean to be – I just thought… I mean, Phil’s a nice boy, you’d make a great couple, but –”

 

“Mum, he’s clearly straight!” Dan laughed. “Just let it go.”

 

“What’s clearly straight?”

 

Dan whipped around to see Phil standing outside his bedroom, rubbing at his eyes.

 

“Nobody,” Dan replied stupidly. “I mean, nothing.”

 

Phil shrugged, then he turned and grabbed his bookbag and started towards them. “Mrs. Howell, I’ve got the test drafts.”

 

“Oh, excellent. Would you like to look over them with me while I order the pizza? You will stay for dinner, won’t you Phil?”

 

“Of course,” Phil said with a warm smile. “I never say no to pizza.”

 

Dan’s mother beamed at him, then she touched Dan’s shoulder with a more motherly smile and stepped past them towards the kitchen. “What kind of pizza do you prefer?” she asked Phil as she walked. “Dan always has me order pepperoni and bacon, but we can get more than one pizza for the three of us.”

 

“I like all pizza toppings but for mushrooms and anchovies,” Phil told her.

 

“Oh, wonderful, I can’t stand mushrooms either.”

 

Dan shook his head and pushed past Phil, he strode towards his bedroom and shut the door behind him, a little more forcefully than he’d intended. He flopped face first onto his bed and buried his nose in a pillow to let out a groan of frustration. His mother was not going to stop shipping them.

 

He felt something vibrate under his chest, and pushed himself up to extract his phone. He unlocked it and found Snapchat waiting for him. He sighed and opened it, to see an addition to Zoe’s story, a photo from his younger friend Louise, and a video from his best friend PJ. He opened the video from PJ first.

 

“WHY IS EVERYONE SO ATTRACTIVE!?!?!?!” PJ screamed into the camera. The video ended. Dan let out a laugh; he guessed PJ did have it worse than he did, while Dan was strictly homosexual, PJ was pansexual, which meant every person he found attractive included literally any attractive person. While Dan ended up being surrounded by attractive boys he could never have, PJ’s video aptly described his own situation. He hit reply and flopped over onto his back.

 

“Why is every attractive boy taken or not gay?!?!?!?” Dan demanded. He sent PJ the video and dropped the phone.

 

He stared up at the ceiling and sighed. Why did all of the hot boys have to be straight, even the ones that wore their pastel hearts on their sleeves?

 

“Dan? Your mum said to ask if you were okay with peppers on your pizza.”

 

“Hot or sweet?”

 

“Bell peppers, the kind in salads.”

 

“Yeah, sure.”

 

The door cracked open, giving Dan a thin view of Phil’s face. “You alright?”

 

“Peachy,” Dan replied sarcastically.

 

Phil looked worried, and he pushed the door open further to step inside. “Not the good kind of peachy, though?”

 

“Is there ever a good kind of peachy?”

 

“Well, in peaches themselves,” Phil answered. “Otherwise there would be no such thing.”

 

Dan let out a snort, and sat up to look Phil in the eye. “You’re completely right. I amend my statement to ‘I’m fine.’”

 

Phil raised an eyebrow. “The neurotypical version of fine, or the acronym?”

 

Dan shrugged. “I have no fucking clue.”

 

Phil stepped inside the room, pushing the door shut behind him. He stepped closer to Dan, then held up his arms. “I usually offer hugs at the price of a pound fifty, however in your case, I will offer a special, ‘buy me a pizza, get a hug at no additional charge’.”

 

“My mum is already buying you pizza.”

 

“Ergo, you get a free hug.”

 

Dan chuckled, shaking his head. He stood up and patted Phil on the arm, but didn’t hug him. “There’s no such thing as a free hug,” he said quietly, then he opened the door and gently pushed Phil out of his bedroom.

 

Dan returned to his flopped position on his bed and stared up at the ceiling in silence. There was no such thing as a free hug. He knew that for a positive.

 

Phil left after the pizza had been eaten, sometime before eight. Dan hadn’t been very social since his mother had returned home, but the moment Phil had stepped out the front door, Dan retreated to his room and ignored his mother in favor of Tumblring and listening to the holy emo trinity on full volume. He fell asleep still dressed in his jeans and tank top, the music still playing and his laptop screen blank.


	3. part three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A boy with a broken heart, who never learned to confess his thoughts to anyone but the moon, meets sunshine in the form of a boy in pastel pink shoes. In dreary England, all light is pale and fleeting, but the sun shines from his smile and his eyes, and the boy's broken heart is mended, put back together with glitter glue. In the end, the one winning in the situation will of course be Mrs. Howell, who shipped it before they even met.

* * *

 

_**part three** _

 

  

His dreams were out to wreck him that night, playing back the memories Dan most tried to bury. Dan found himself in the schoolyard, young and almost innocent, watching across the gardens Carter and a couple of other boys smoking. Dream him watched the boys toss aside the cigarette butts and make their way past them; Carter caught his eye and winked.

 

Dream him sat on the floor of the bathroom, locked in the handicap stall with his face buried in his arms and trying not to sound like he was crying. Then the stall door opened and Carter stood there, a scowl on his face.

 

 _“Hey, kid,”_ he said, _“clear out, alright? This stall’s out of order.”_

 

Dan tried to get up but apparently, Carter thought he was too slow; he grabbed his arm and lifted him off the ground. _“Were you crying?”_ he asked.

 

 _“No,”_ Dan lied in a small voice, a voice as small as his self-esteem.

 

Carter changed his grip on Dan’s arm to a lighter, more gentle one, then with his other hand he wiped Dan’s cheeks and pushed a hand through his fringe. _“Big boys don’t cry,”_ Carter said. _“At least not without a damn good reason.”_

 

 _“Is parents screaming at each other until four a.m. a good enough_ reason?” Dream him said before his mind could stop him.

 

 _“A fucking good reason,”_ replied the older boy. Carter let go of Dan and glanced back at the door, then he grabbed the handle and pulled it shut, locking it behind him. _“Tell you what, don’t tell the janitor the smoke detector doesn’t work at this end of the bathroom, I’ll give you a cig and a free hug, huh?”_

 

Dan had been so stupid back then. He wished that the dream wasn’t staying true to the memory, that he had said no and left, but dream him took the cigarette and the hug. Carter smelled like smoke and Axe cologne.

 

He wanted the dream to end. He wanted the memory to die. He didn’t want to keep the memories of encounters in that bathroom stall to sit in a haze of nicotine with whispers of deep thoughts that turned to being fucked against the wall and Carter’s strong hands and the sound of his growls and moans. He didn’t want to dream it.

 

Dream him fell to his knees, panting and sweating from a high he would never be able to recover from. In the dream, Dan gingerly got up and turned around to kiss Carter, expecting instant tongue and being shoved backwards again, but instead, he found softer lips with gentler movements and a certain lack of the taste of nicotine.

 

Dan, in the dream, opened his eyes to find a grinning Phil, messed up hair and a loosened butter yellow tie around his neck. He took the opportunity and grabbed Phil by his tie, pulling him into a rougher kiss. Dreams were made to work out sexual frustration, after all.

 

“Dan, you’ve got to stop snoozing your alarm in your sleep!”

 

Dan’s mother’s voice ended the dream, waving away hazes of cigarette smoke and conflicting blue eyes and the feel of hands running over his body. He sat up groggily, wincing at the stiffness of his muscles and of his dick, to grab his phone and check the time. He flopped back against the pillows; he still had ten minutes before he had to start panicking about being late.

 

Dan hadn’t had such a sexual dream in a long time, especially one that left him that hard. He glanced at the door to make sure it was locked, then shoved a hand under his blankets to remedy his situation. Unbidden, a thought of Phil stretching and his midriff becoming exposed came to mind, which did not help. Dan tried to be as quick as possible, he did need to get a shower at that point. Nor did he want his mother coming to rush him. Dan winced slightly. That was a poor choice of words.

 

“Dan!”

 

“I’m up!” Dan yelled back. He was done, anyway. He threw back the blankets and stretched. “I’m going to get a shower.”

 

“Dan, the bus will be here in twenty minutes!”

 

“I’ll be quick!”

 

“You’d better!”

 

He yanked his shirt over his head and threw it towards the other side of his room and the vague location of his clothes hamper. He stripped off his jeans and sticky boxers, then opened his bathroom door and pulled back the shower curtain. He rinsed quickly, making sure to wash away the last traces of his dreams, then shut off the water and wrapped himself in a towel.

 

Dan was dressed and leaving his room with a little less than ten minutes left to haul ass to the bus stop. He grabbed a bagel from the cupboard, poured himself a coffee into a paper cup, then called a goodbye to his mother and pushed open the front door, swinging his book bag onto his shoulder. He shoved the bagel into his mouth, then pulled his phone and headphones from his pocket. He paused to shove the headphones into the phone’s jack, then continued walking while he pushed in one earbud. He opened Spotify again and played the last thing he’d listened to, which was the same playlist of the emo holy trinity. He walked the block and a half to the bus stop, then leaned against a sign pole to eat his bagel. He’d just finished it and was washing it down with the coffee when the bus arrived.

 

Dan waved to no one, said nothing to the bus driver, merely found his bench and dropped onto it. He pushed in his other earbud and stared out the window.

 

He discovered that there were two stops between his and Phil’s. He lifted his head from the window and watched as the bus braked Phil bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet in the cold. There were other people there, but Dan ignored them. He hadn’t been in a situation like this in a long time, a situation where Dan had had an arousing dream about a person, and later that person showed up and spoke to him. Not that he was complaining, of course, he’d been very glad to see Phil in his dream rather than an ex-boyfriend, but it did make for awkward conversation.

 

Sure enough, Phil dropped down beside him and sighed in greeting.

 

Dan automatically handed him an earbud. Phil grinned.

 

“I’ve trained you well, haven’t I?” Phil said to him. “Oh, Rat-A-Tat! I like this one.”

 

“Shut up,” Dan mumbled. Now that Phil was beside him, all he could think of was his dream version of him where Phil was behind him rather than beside. He cursed the human brain and its tendency to think of the very thing that was worst for it.

 

“Is that coffee?”

 

“No, it’s nitroglycerin.” Phil took the cup from him and sipped from it. “Hey!” Dan protested.

 

“My mum’s gone on some freak diet detox thing and has eradicated all sources of caffeine from the house. I haven’t had a coffee in the morning in over a week.”

 

“Okay, fine, you can have some of my coffee, but only because I pity you,” Dan told him. Phil grinned and took another sip. He handed him back the cup and dropped his head onto Dan’s shoulder.

 

“Yesterday was fun,” Phil said.

 

“What was, pizza or hanging out with my mum?”

 

“That too, but I meant when we were playing Halo. I enjoyed hanging out with you.”

 

“Well, don’t suddenly think we’re best friends or something,” Dan said.

 

“I don’t suddenly think we’re best friends, I think it a probable eventuality.”

 

Dan looked at him with furrowed brow and narrowed eyes. “Are you fucking kidding me?” he muttered.

 

“What? I didn’t say anything.”

 

“You’re such a weirdo, Phil.”

 

“All I said was that we were likely to eventually become best friends.”

 

“We’re completely different.”

 

“Depends on how you look at it,” Phil told him. “We both like punk music, anime, video games.”

 

“That a friendship does not make,” Dan said.

 

“I argue that we are already friends.”

 

“Why are we discussing whether we’re friends or not?”

 

“Because you’re trying to distance yourself from me for whatever reason you’ve got inside your obnoxiously gay mind, and I’ve decided to have none of it. I am your friend, Daniel James Howell, whether you like it or not.”

 

Dan leaned back in his seat, staring out of the window with a frown. The majority of him didn’t care whether Phil was his friend or not, but that small little part of him that agreed with his mum in shipping them and thought that Phil was attractive did not want to be Phil’s friend. Friendship was platonic.

 

“Fine,” was all he said. When Phil put his head back on Dan’s shoulder, he didn’t turn. He kept looking out the window, trying not to think about Phil at all and failing miserably.

 

He didn't expect to see Phil the rest of the day; they did, after all, have different classes and none of their empty periods overlapped. Dan felt both grateful and disappointed that he didn’t pass Phil in the corridors. He had thinking he had to do.

 

He had lunch after third period, at half past twelve. When the bell rang after History, Dan made his way through the corridors against the flow of the crowd, but it didn’t matter because it parted before him. The stupid freshmen shuffled to the sides with their gazes on the ground, sophomores and juniors lowered their voices in respect, and the seniors nodded to him in passing. The whole school feared and respected him. Dan knew it wasn’t because he was talented or athletic or even intimidating, though that was the reason respect for him remained in addition to his attitude, coupled with the rather true rumors that he was involved with the school’s pseudo gang. It was because of the legacy he’d gained when he’d been the one to tie down the infamous Carter Jones, that he’d been the stupid sophomore Carter had fallen for and tricked and seduced him into renouncing his player ways to devote his love to him and him alone, then brutally then ripped out his heart and walked calmly away from the wreckage. The thought made Dan sick, because it was, as was nearly everything with the infamous Carter Jones, a lie.

 

He pushed his way into the second floor boys’ bathroom, his feet carrying him to the last stall in the row; the handicap stall that had a malfunctioning smoke detector. Dan locked the stall door and sank to the ground against the wall, pulling from a pocket in his jacket a pack of cigarettes and a cheap Bic lighter. He lit the end of a cigarette and drew in a breath from it. The taste had made him gag four years ago, but now it calmed him. He watched the smoke curl from the end of it, rising up in swirls and whorls of a poison he gladly drew into his bones.

 

He heard the door open and scowled. Dan bent to look under the door, and saw pink Converse and matching skinny jeans. His scowl shifted to a frown; had a girl entered the boys’ bathroom? The shoes came closer, and Dan shook his head; it wasn’t a girl, the legs were too masculine. What boy wore pink Converse?

 

“Is someone in here?”

 

Dan’s head fell back against the tiled wall with a whispered curse. Of course it was, only Phil Lester dared wear pale pink anything in this school.

 

“I smell smoke. Is someone in here? Are you okay?”

 

Dan looked at his cigarette with regret in his eyes. He took one last quick drag on it, then flicked it into the toilet as he stood; he flushed the toilet and shoved the lighter and cigarette pack into his pocket. He unlocked the stall door and pushed it open.

 

“Dan?” Phil said.

 

“What are you doing in here?” Dan asked him gruffly.

 

“It’s a bathroom,” Phil replied, raising an eyebrow and giving Dan a friendly smile. “What else would I have come for? The ambiance?”

 

Dan shot him a glare as he stepped out of the stall, causing Phil’s smile to falter. Phil moved closer to him, his nose wrinkling as he sniffed the air.

 

“Were you smoking, Dan?”

 

“If I was, do you think I’d tell you?”

 

“I don’t think you have to,” Phil said quietly. “I can smell it on you.”

 

Dan rolled his eyes, he stepped up to a sink and stuck his hands under the faucet; it turned on automatically. “Fuck off, Phil.”

 

“It’s a smoke-free campus, you know. You could get expelled if you were caught.”

 

“It’s also a drug-free campus, however every Thursday morning half the drama club ditches class to get high behind the equipment sheds.”

 

“Still, what if someone walked in on you?”

 

“I’m not going to get expelled,” Dan said to him. “My mum works for the school, if they tried to expel me, she’d quit, and she practically runs the primary school.”

 

“I’m sure your mother wouldn’t be pleased, though.”

 

“Are you threatening me, Phil?” Dan asked him. Phil’s eyes widened in an instant as he raised his hands up; Dan stepped closer, letting his smoke laced breath fall onto Phil’s face. Phil coughed slightly.

 

“I was just commenting,” Phil told him.

 

Dan narrowed his eyes, a smirk bending his lips. “You’d have better. There are a million ways I could make your life miserable, princess.”

 

“Wha – princess? – D-Dan –” Phil’s words tumbled out of his mouth, ceasing as Dan grabbed his tie and pulled him closer.

 

“Keep your nose where it belongs,” Dan whispered in his ear. “In a book, not my business.”

 

He let go of him, then shoved past Phil roughly. Dan pushed open the bathroom door and left. He slowed to a stop in the middle of the empty corridor and let out his breath. Dan ran a hand through his hair, then let it drop to his side. The exchange in the bathroom had left him more than a little breathless; Dan had been so tempted to shove Phil up against the sinks instead of threatening him, and pulling Phil closer had been a mistake. Phil smelled more intoxicating than any drug or drink Dan had ever encountered.

 

As the day ended, Dan realized with slow resignation that he’d probably ruined whatever chances he’d had with Phil with what he had said in the bathroom. Dan had expected Phil to sit elsewhere on the bus that afternoon. He’d climbed onto it and found his bench before Phil had even approached the bus, then waited to watch Phil take a different seat. He was waiting to feel the sting of Phil rejecting him even though he deserved, but when Phil boarded the bus, he didn’t take one of the first empty seats. Dan tried to look like he wasn’t watching Phil as he moved down the aisle. He guessed he would take a seat further in the back, but Phil paused by Dan’s bench.

 

Then he sat down.

 

Dan looked at him, then around the bus. Had there been less empty seats than he’d thought? Then Phil was nudging him.

 

“Do I get an earbud or are you still mad at me?” Phil asked.

 

Dan plucked out one earbud and handed it to Phil silently, but with a deep set frown on his face. Phil pushed the bud into his ear and settled against the back of the seat, his eyes closed and face tilted upwards. Dan shifted in the bench to look at him head on.

 

“I thought you would have been mad at me?” Dan said quietly, just barely audible over the atmosphere of the bus.

 

“Why would I be mad at you?” Phil asked.

 

“I dunno,” Dan muttered. “Because I’m a jerk.”

 

“You’re not a jerk,” Phil told him. “I startled you, you reacted like any normal person would when cornered.”

 

Dan fell back against the seat again, looking at his hands folded in his lap. “Look, I’m sorry, okay? I overreacted.”

 

“I forgive you,” Phil said easily. Dan looked back at him. Phil opened his eyes and met his gaze, then gave him a warm smile.

 

Dan looked away, staring out of the window. He turned up the music on his iPhone and tried to ignore Phil’s presence.

 

“It’s not good for your health, you know.”

 

“What’s not?”

 

“You know.”

 

“Drop it, Phil.”

 

“You could get cancer.”

 

“I know.”

 

“Then why do you do it?”

 

Dan looked back at him, a scowl on his face once more. “I don’t very often, okay? Just when stuff gets too much.”

 

“How often does it get too much?”

 

Dan didn’t answer. He looked back out the window. The bus had begun to move, taking them away from the hell he attended for nine hours a day.

 

“Dan?”

 

“Fuck off, okay?”

 

“I would, but no one’s readily available to fuck off with.”

 

Dan let out a short laugh that lacked in mirth, he looked back at Phil, to see his face concerned and gentle. “You don’t need to worry about me, okay? I’m fine.”

 

“Fed up, insecure, neurotic, and emotionally unstable?”

 

“Fucked not fed up,” Dan corrected, “but yeah, sure.”

 

“You know that misery does love company, right?”

 

“Are you offering yours?” Dan asked in a dry tone.

 

“Actually, I’m hoping you might be offering yours. My little sister’s having a sleepover tonight, and I’m desperate for someplace to stay that will be free of a dozen eight-year-old girls.”

 

Dan’s lips curled in a wry smile as he leaned his head back again. He was just doomed to heartache, wasn’t he?

 

“I’ve got a double bed and unlimited Netflix, if you don’t mind sleeping next to a gay boy,” Dan replied.

 

“Not in the slightest,” Phil said. “In fact, I might promise you my undying love now that you’ve rescued me from a true nightmare.”

 

Dan laughed, shaking his head. “Careful what you say, princess, it might come true one day,” he told him, a sarcastic edge to his voice. Phil shook his head with a soft smile of amusement.

 

The bus lurched to a halt at Dan's stop; Phil and Dan stood and made their way to the front of the bus, behind the one other girl who shared that stop. She gave them a confused look over the top of her glasses as they exited the bus and it drove off again. Dan scowled at her, then flipped her off. The girl pushed her glasses back up her nose with her middle finger, rather smoothly returning his verbal swear before starting down the other side of the block. Dan shoved his hands into his pockets and started towards his house. Phil fell into step beside Dan, his gait matching Dan's step for step despite him being an inch or two shorter.

 

“So are you going to tell your mum you're spending the night here or are you going to dare withhold that information?” Dan posed to Phil.

 

“I actually texted her on the bus, while you were moodily staring out the window.”

 

“I wasn't being moody,” protested Dan.

 

“You were,” Phil said with a laugh. “Moodier than Mad-Eye himself.”

 

Dan frowned at him. “Was that a Harry Potter reference?”

 

“It was, indeed.”

 

Dan let out a laugh. “Nerd.”

 

“Well, you're a geek.”

 

“Am not.”

 

“Are too. I'll add that to the list of things that make up your core personality.”

 

Dan shook his head as he crossed in front of Phil and stepped up to his front door. He unlocked it and moved inside, Phil following him. Dan shut the door and locked it behind them.

 

“So…”

 

Phil looked back at Dan. “So…”

 

“Erm…” Dan started. “I'd offer more Halo, but I actually have an essay due tomorrow that I haven't started.”

 

Phil gave him a look of scorn. Dan stuck his middle finger in his face and muttered: “shut up.” Phil laughed. Dan took the short flight of stairs to the main floor two at a time, reaching the top and flicking a light switch. He turned back and raised an eyebrow.

 

“Are you just going to stand there or are you coming?”

 

“Sorry, I'm coming,” Phil said, shaking himself slightly. “Erm… never mind.”

 

“Never mind what?”

 

“I just… it's nothing, never mind. I should work on homework too, I guess.”

 

“Yeah, I guess,” Dan said, shrugging as he turned away. He walked back to his bedroom and turned the light on. He tossed his bag onto the bed, then shrugged off his leather jacket and draped it on a chair. Phil stepped inside, looking around awkwardly.

 

Dan glanced at him as he pulled his jumper over his head. “Um, I prefer working at a desk, so you can just sit on the bed or on a bean bag.”

 

As Dan tossed the jumper towards the hamper, he noticed Phil's cheeks were slightly pink. Dan looked around the room for the little space heater he kept for the colder nights, figuring that the chill outside, despite it being April already, had brightened Phil’s face. It was on, but set to a low setting, so he left it. “Erm, I'll just sit on the bed,” Phil mumbled, slipping his book bag off his shoulder and seating himself on the bed.

 

“It’s squishy,” Phil said, bouncing a little in his seat.

 

Dan let out a snort. “It’s not squishy, it’s got one of those memory foam mattress toppers on it.” Dan grabbed his MacBook from his bag and set it on his desk before pulling out the chair and sitting down. “Make yourself at home,” Dan told Phil, opening the computer and flicking a finger over the mouse pad to wake it up. He saw Phil pull off his coat out of the corner of his eye, then his shoes. Dan switched his gaze back to his computer and entered his password. His browser was open at Tumblr when it opened, and Phil looked up just in time to see the porn blog Dan had been on the night before.

 

“Oh, shit,” Dan hissed; he hastily closed his browser, trying not to blush. Maybe that was the reason for his particularly sexual dream. He hazarded a glance at Phil, who was obviously trying not to laugh.

 

“Shut up,” Dan mumbled.

 

“To each his own,” Phil said.

 

“I admit I've not had any in quite a while,” said Dan unthinkingly, then he groaned and hung his head in his hands. “I'm just going to shut up.”

 

“It's totally fine to not have sex,” Phil told him. “I've never done it.”

 

Dan tried very hard not to look at him. He tried not to think about what Phil had just said, especially not about changing that situation. “Right,” he said. “You're right. Just… Do me a favor and forget you saw that.”

 

“Sure, Dan.”

 

Dan, still red in the face, shook himself and reopened the browser, this time going to Google Docs and not Tumblr; he grabbed his history textbook from his book bag and opened it to the chapter covering his essay topic. Before starting, he opened Spotify on his laptop and played the same emo holy trinity playlist.

 

He read for about ten minutes before he began to type, then after another ten began switching back and forth between the document file and his textbook. He was only vaguely aware of Phil behind him, stretched out on his stomach on the bed and reading; occasionally he heard the sound of Phil turning a page or the scratching of his pen in the margins. Dan did his best to ignore the presence of the attractive boy behind him and focused on his essay. He had to finish it before his mother got home, it didn’t have to be good but it had to be done. He had enough skill to bullshit his way into a C or a B with an essay without particularly trying anyway, had for years. It was a talent that had come quite in handy.

 

By the time his eyes began to burn and the light outside began to dim, Dan had written enough to scrape a passing grade and satisfy the demonic Mrs. Wojcicki. He pushed his chair back and pulled his arms above his head, straining his joints; he heard a little pop from his lower spine, and then Phil shuddered with an audible groan.

 

“Oh, that’s horrible,” Phil said. Dan leaned back enough that the chair back rested on the bed’s edge and looked at Phil with an evil grin.

 

“You mean this?” he said and cracked his knuckles.

 

“Ew, stop it!” Phil said with another shudder.

 

“Stop what?” Dan asked him with an innocent smile, cracking his neck.

 

“That!” Phil protested, swatting at him with a light hand. Dan caught it, then skillfully cracked Phil’s knuckle. “EW! Bad Dan, bad Dan!” Phil attempted to jerk his hand away, but Dan held onto it and he only managed to make it collide with Dan’s chin. “Oh, sorry.”

 

Dan laughed, flinging Phil’s hand away from him. “You’re an utter spoon, Phil.”

 

“Well, you’re gross.”

 

Dan shook his head, let his chair fall back on all four feet and twisted it around to face the other boy. He propped his arm on the back of the chair and leaned his chin on his hand, looking up at Phil. “What time is it?”

 

Phil raised his arm up, shaking back his sleeve, then peered down at his watch. “Ten to six.”

 

“Really?” Dan said, wrinkling his nose. “My mum’ll be home in half an hour.”

 

“Did you ever tell her that I was here?”

 

A broad smirk began to grow on Dan’s face. “I did not.”

 

Phil’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t like the look of that grin, Dan.”

 

“You shouldn’t,” Dan said. “This is my devious grin.”

 

“Devious? You can’t pull off devious. Mischievous, yes, but not devious.”

 

“Why can’t I pull off devious?” Dan whined. “I can be devious.”

 

“You’re too adorable to be devious.”

 

“You flatter me, Phil, but you have absolutely no idea what the hell I am capable of.”

 

“In that case,” Phil said, scooting away from him, “I think I might amend my description from adorable to slightly sinister. Wait… no, you’re still too adorable.”

 

Dan rolled his eyes, then he straightened in his chair. “We’re going to prank my mum, and we have half an hour and –” Dan grabbed his phone to check the time – “two minutes to be ready.”

 

“I don’t want to prank your mum,” Phil whined, “she’s really nice.”

 

“She’s more devious and evil than even I,” Dan said to Phil. “Trust me, I got it from her. Now how do we do it, hmm?”

 

“Do what? Prank your mum?”

 

“Yes… Option one, lame jumpscare. No, that’s not even an option. Real option one, make her think she’s in the wrong house by you acting like it’s yours.”

 

“That’s silly, and I won’t do that.”

 

“Fine,” Dan sighed. “Option two…”

 

He looked at Phil, a contemplative frown on his face. Could he? No, no that would be too bold. Then again…

 

“Did you know that she ships us?” He blurted.

 

“What?” Phil said.

 

“My mum, she ships us. Well, she has a ship for everyone, but she in particular ships me with you. Possibly you with other people at the same time, but you’re the only person she ships me with.”

 

“Seriously?” Phil whispered, his gaze drifting away from Dan’s and a far away look entering his eyes. “Your mum… ships you and me?”

 

“Yep,” Dan said with a sigh. “Sorry, but she’s weird that way. Anyway, I was thinking we could use that to our advantage in pranking her.”

 

“I’m not catching your drift…” Phil said, still not looking at him.

 

“Ah, let me demonstrate.” Dan held up a finger and cleared his throat, then leaned back in his chair, shut his eyes and arranged his face to express an orgasm; he let out a long, low moan, followed by words: “Oh, Phil, harder Phil, god Phil oooooooooo ohhhh yeaaaahhh…”

 

“Dan!” Phil said with an embarrassed laugh, clapping his hands to his already reddening face. “What the hell?!”

 

“Do you catch my drift now?” Dan asked, a smirk replacing his sex face.

 

“That’s just mean!” Phil mumbled through his hands.

 

“C’mon, it’ll be funny as hell,” Dan said. He transferred from the chair to the bed, then grabbed Phil’s wrists and pulled them away from his face. “It will be the funniest thing since… Since I don’t even know.”

 

“That sounds like a very horrible prank,” Phil protested.

 

“She’ll laugh it off,” Dan said. “Come on, please! We could set up cameras and record her reaction.”

 

“What, to share on the Internet? That would be mean!”

 

“Phil, my mum would find it funny as hell after she realizes that we’re faking it and she’s going to want to see what her face looked like. Please?” Dan added with a whine, clasping his hands under his chin and pouting his lips. Phil looked a bit tempted. Dan fluttered his eyelashes.

 

“Fine,” Phil sighed. “I’ll do it.”

 

“Excellent!” Dan let out a laugh, clapping his hands together as he leaned back. “I’ve got a couple of video cameras we can set up…” he got up off the bed and half stumbled half jumped towards his closet. He dug through it until he found two cameras, then turned back to face Phil. “Whaddya think, one near the door, one in the hall, then my iPhone or something recording in here?”

 

Phil shrugged, he was still very red in the face. Dan dropped them onto his bed, then crossed back over to his desk to pick up his phone. “Damn, the battery’s low.”

 

“You can use mine,” Phil said. “It’s at 70 percent, last I checked.”

 

“Oh, great, thanks Phil,” Dan turned back to him. “What do you figure? Where should we set up the cameras?”

 

Phil was obviously having difficulty meeting his gaze; he merely shrugged and picked up one of the video cameras. “How come you have cameras randomly stashed in your closet?”

 

Dan faltered. “Erm… Well, one of them is mine, the other is my mum’s work camera, I dunno why it’s in here…”

 

“But why is it in your closet?” Phil asked.

 

Dan glanced at the closet, then at the cameras, then half at the bed beneath them. “It was a stupid thing my – my ex pulled a while back, I never put the camera away properly, I just left it in the closet.”

 

Phil’s face became confused. “Wait, what?”

 

Now Dan was the one having difficulty meeting the other’s gaze. “My ex tried to tape us, and I left the camera in the closet. I don’t know why my mum’s camera is in there, she must have stuck it there when she saw mine in there, probably because she thought that was where I was keeping it.”

 

It took a moment for Phil understand, and when he did, his face reddened again and he immediately looked down at his feet. “Oh. Erm. I’m sorry.”

 

“It wasn’t your fault, Carter was a dick,” Dan said. Then he stopped and stared contemplatively into the distance. “Then again, his dick was his most redeeming quality.”

 

“Dan!” Phil protested.

 

“What?” Dan asked, then he laughed. “It’s true! He was an asshole who was only good at putting it in my asshole!”

 

“That’s even worse!” Phil muttered, falling backwards on the bed and covering his face with his hands.

 

Dan let out a laugh. “Carter was an asshole and a dick and those were his only redeeming features!” He shouted, then fell into laughing. He collapsed onto the bed, laughing at his own puns and his own pain, until Phil grabbed both of his hands.

 

“That’s just plain weird, Dan,” Phil told him. “However, given the fact that this boy was your ex, I’ll permit laughing at him.”

 

“The best thing was that his dick was only three inches,” Dan laughed.

 

Phil looked pained but also sympathetic at the same time. “This is therapeutic, isn’t it?”

 

“You have no idea,” Dan hiccupped. “You have no idea how much of a dick he was.”

 

Then Phil startled him by pulling him up and wrapping his arms around him. Dan stiffened, but only for a moment, then he awkwardly patted Phil on the arm until Phil released him. Dan held himself close to Phil still, however, and the words he’d been holding in for so long spilled from his lips.

 

“Carter was a foul, egotistical, horrid, filthy asshole,” Dan muttered. “The best thing that ever happened to me was him leaving.”

 

“I’ve heard he was mean,” Phil said.

 

Dan let out a laugh. “He wasn’t just mean, he was cruel. Bordering sociopathic, except he had enough emotions to fake loving me and get me to pity him enough to let him fuck me whenever he wanted.”

 

Phil was silent, so Dan went on. “We’re all lucky the school only held him back one year, if he had still been at our school… Carter was a bully, plain and simple. He was a bully that saw a weak, little gay boy hiding in a bathroom stall as a potential target for his sick games.”

 

“I… I’m sorry, Dan.”

 

Dan shook his head a little, a grin breaking his face. He looked up at Phil, with gratitude in his eyes. “People kept telling me he wasn’t good news, and when he left I realized they were right, but I never wanted to admit it to myself. I didn’t want to admit that he used me…”

 

“But now you have?”

 

“Yeah,” Dan said. “You’re right, Phil. This is therapeutic. Thanks.”

 

“What did I do?” Phil asked.

 

Dan shrugged. “Laughed with me at my ex’s pathetic little dick.”

 

Phil couldn’t hold back his laugh. “Okay then. Erm…”

 

“Right, now that I’ve bared my deepest darkest secret to you, you definitely have to pretend to fuck me so I can prank my mum.”

 

Phil’s face, once again, turned red and he covered his mouth with his hand. “Oh, I said I’d do that, didn’t I?”

 

“Yep,” Dan said, slipping off the bed and grabbing the cameras. He checked the bedside clock. “Mum’ll be home at 6:20, it’s five past now. You want to help me set up the cameras?”

 

“Erm, sure.” Phil took one of the cameras from him, then followed Dan into the hallway. Dan walked towards the foyer table, which wasn’t really in the split foyer but was on the main floor. He took the littler camera from Phil and switched it on, then set it on the table in the key tray that had a variety of junk in it and no keys.

 

“Watch it, make sure I’m still in the frame,” Dan told Phil as he turned away. Phil leaned over the camera while Dan went down the stairs to the front door.

 

“You’re good,” Phil said. Dan went back up and adjusted the camera to make it less conspicuous.

 

“What do you think?” Dan asked him. Phil gave him a thumbs up. Dan took the other camera, then went to the end of the hallway. “Stay there,” he called over his shoulder. He pushed open the linen closet door, then switched the camera on, began recording, and placed it on a shelf, then covered it with a towel so that only the lens was exposed. He stepped aside and let it sit a second, then picked it back up and turned it around, opening playback and stopping the recording. He checked that Phil and the entire hallway were visible, then put the camera back and turned back to face Phil.

 

“Ready?” He said.

 

“What do we have to be ready for?” Phil asked. “All we had to do was set up cameras.”

 

Dan raised an eyebrow. “Well, obviously we ought to rehearse. I mean, I clearly would be able to sell it but unless she hears you too it won’t work.”

 

Phil blushed, but cleared his throat and stepped forward. “Erm…”

 

Dan leaned against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest and raising an eyebrow. “Let’s hear it then. Give us your best moan, princess.”

 

“Why do you keep calling me princess?” Phil said with half a laugh.

 

“Because you practically are one,” Dan told him, adding an eyeroll for emphasis. “Go on. Sex noise.”

 

Phil blushed scarlet, opened his mouth, closed it, then laughed and covered his eyes with a hand. “I can’t do it with you watching me,” he murmured.

 

Dan signed pointedly, then covered his own eyes. “Alright, I’m not looking.”

 

“Turn round.”

 

Dan shook his head slightly as he did as he was told. “Happy?”

 

“Um…”

 

“Come on, Phil, you only have a few minutes to practice!”

 

“Lemme just… gather my thoughts.”

 

“Think about wanking to Muse or whatever you do.”

 

“I don’t –” Phil’s voice dropped to say the next word – “wank to Muse.”

 

“Well, what do you wank to?”

 

“Erm…”

 

“Fine, don’t tell me. Just sound like that.”

 

“Okay. Gimme a second.” Dan waited a moment, then another, then Phil let out a tiny sigh.

 

“Getting there,” Dan said.

 

“Hush!”

 

“Sorry.”

 

“Um… ahhh?”

 

“You’re getting laid, not ice cream.”

 

“In all honesty, what’s the difference?”

 

Dan snorted. “Fair point.”

 

“Okay... “

 

“Try saying my name. Use that sexy deep voice of yours.”

 

“You think my voice is sexy?”

 

Dan rolled his eyes even though Phil couldn’t see him. “Yes, Phil, your voice is the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard.”

 

“I can’t tell if you’re taking the mickey or not.”

 

“Just do it!”

 

“Dan!”

 

Dan halted. Phil was quiet again, but the effects of the way he’d said Dan’s name were lasting. “Go on,” Dan murmured.

 

“Erm… Dan… god, Dan…”

 

“You’re getting there.”

 

“Oh, Dan…”

 

“Try adding a moan or two.”

 

“Ooohh, Daaaann…”

 

Dan’s lips curled in a smirk. “You sure you’ve never done it before? You sound like you’ve had practice.”

 

“Oh, shut up.”

 

Dan let out a laugh and turned around. “You ready?”

 

“For what?”

 

Dan cleared his throat. “Oh, oh, god Phil!”

 

“Oh, erm… D-Dan…” Phil stuttered, his face a bright red.

 

“Oh, god, Phil, yes! Yes!”

 

“Oh, Dan, you like that?”

 

“Ooooh yes!”

 

Phil clapped his hands to his mouth and turned away, laughing in nervous embarrassment. “Oh, this sounds so wrong.”

 

Dan crept up behind him, then right by his ear whispered in a breathy voice: “That’s because it feels soooo right, Phil,”

 

Phil jumped halfway out of his skin, turning back to face a smirking Dan. “You’re evil,” Phil said.

 

Dan just gave Phil a flirtatious grin. “You love it, Phil,” he said, still speaking in that breathy tone.

 

“Erm… I don’t know how to respond to that.”

 

“Oh, god, Phil, just kiss me!” Dan cried theatrically, clapping his hands to his chest and channeling his inner drama queen.

 

“Not if you’re being so obnoxious,” Phil laughed.

 

“Oh, but I'm always obnoxious…” Dan whined.

 

“Then I’ll never kiss you,” Phil said matter-of-factly.

 

“Shame,” Dan said, putting more sarcasm into his voice than he felt.

 

“Well, do I sound sexual enough?”

 

“Hmm…” Dan coped a thoughtful pose. “I say, harder, Phil oh god harder! You say?”

 

“Yeah…” Phil said, rather lamely.

 

“No, try again: Oh, Phil, Phil, harder Phil, oh god!”

 

“God, yeah Dan, take it you... scrumptious... thing…”

 

“What?” Dan said, “what the hell was that?”

 

“I have absolutely no clue.” Phil looked quite ashamed of himself as his gaze fell to the ground.

 

“Don’t. Ever. Use that word. Again,” Dan requested.

 

“Right. Never.

 

Dan grabbed Phil’s arm and pushed back his sleeve to check his watch. “Quarter past, okay, that will have to do for now, turn the cameras on.”

 

He moved back to the linen closet and fiddled with the camera a moment, then a red light switched on and he stepped back. “Come on, Phil!” He called over his shoulder.

 

“How’s this: Oh, I’m about to come, Dan.”

 

Dan laughed, shaking his head. “You know what, that’s perfect Phil.”

 

“Good, because this is the weirdest thing I’ve ever done and I’m not doing it again.”

 

“Fair enough,” Dan said. “Get your ass into my bedroom.”

 

“Whose ass is getting it, though? In the prank, I mean,” Phil asked as he stepped past Dan into the bedroom.

 

“Mine,” Dan said, pushing the door shut behind him.

 

“Why yours?” Phil asked. “I mean, wouldn’t it be more believable to have you doing me?”

 

“It would be, if my mum didn’t know that I always bottom,” Dan said as he picked up Phil’s iPhone to start recording. Phil stopped in his tracks.

 

“Um, Dan?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Why does your mum know that you’re a bottom?”

 

“Don’t ask.”

 

Phil looked out the window, then at his feet, then at Dan, then lastly at his feet. “Okay.”

 

“Phil, what’s your unlock code?”

 

“On my phone?”

 

“Yeah, so I can start recording.”

 

“My birthday,” Phil said.

 

“Which would be?”

 

“0130,” Phil said.

 

“Kay,” Dan entered the code and found his camera. He opened video, then carefully propped the phone up against his open laptop and moved around the desk to check it. “Stand in the doorway Phil,” he told him.

 

Phil moved into the doorway, then Dan adjusted the camera. “Perfect.”

 

“So, are we ready?”

 

“Yep,” Dan said, crossing the room to his window. “Now we wait. When she gets out of her car, we start making noise.”

 

“Should I rock the bed or something so it squeaks and sounds like we’re on it?”

 

“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.”

 

Phil seated himself onto the bed, then repositioned to kneel on it. He bounced up and down a little, causing a creak of bedsprings.

 

“Perfect,” Dan said. “Just keep doing that.” He turned back to the window and peered through the curtains. There was a moment of silence, then a car slowed to turn into their driveway; Dan hissed “She’s pulling in the driveway!” and quickly closed the curtains. They heard a car door slam, then Dan turned to Phil.

 

“You ready?” Dan said.

 

“As I’ll ever be,” Phil muttered.


	4. part four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A boy with a broken heart, who never learned to confess his thoughts to anyone but the moon, meets sunshine in the form of a boy in pastel pink shoes. In dreary England, all light is pale and fleeting, but the sun shines from his smile and his eyes, and the boy's broken heart is mended, put back together with glitter glue. In the end, the one winning in the situation will of course be Mrs. Howell, who shipped it before they even met.

* * *

 

_**part four** _

  

 

The front door opened, and Dan quickly let out a moan. “Oh, god…”

 

Phil, red in the face, groaned low, murmuring, “Oooh…” He faltered, falling forward onto the bed and causing it to creak.

 

“Oh, god, yes!” Dan moaned again, grabbing Phil and shaking him a little. “Harder, yeah, yeah…”

 

“Uhhh… Oh, Dan,” Phil moaned with an even redder face. He straightened up and bounced up and down a moment. “Oh, do that again…”

 

“Yeah, you like that?” Dan could barely hold back a laugh. He heard footsteps in the hall. “Oh, god, Phil! Yes, Phil!” he cried aloud, quickly moving away from the bed and sitting at his desk.

 

“Oh, yeah, Dan, yeah!” Phil groaned, struggling just as much as Dan to not laugh. He continued to bounce, and the bed squeaked even more.

 

“Oh, yes, yes, Phil! Yes!”

 

“Oh, my god.”

 

This had come from neither of them, rather it was a shocked whisper from outside. Phil let a snort escape his lips.

 

“Yeah, Phil, yeah, yeah!” Dan tried to moan, but it ended in a laugh. He flopped over onto the desk and tried to laugh as quietly as he could.

 

“Erm, Dan?”

 

Now Phil was laughing, the door half opened, and Dan’s mother peered through the crack between the door and the wall.

 

“What the?” his mother said, pushing open the rest of the way to find two fully clothed boys sitting far apart from each other and laughing their heads off.

 

“Afternoon, Mum,” Dan hiccupped from his laughter.

 

“What on earth were you doing in here?” she blustered, her cheeks bright pink.

 

“Oh, homework,” Dan said, recovering himself and sitting up straight. He glanced at Phil and saw him folded over face first into his duvet, his ears bright red.

 

“What sort of homework sounds like that?” Dan’s mother asked, her face stunned.

 

“Erm…” Dan started.

 

“It was Dan’s idea!” Phil cried.

 

“Phil!” Dan scolded.

 

“We were pranking you!” Phil confessed.

 

Dan’s mother pressed a hand to her chest, clear relief spreading over her face. “Good lord, Daniel!” She whispered. “You gave me palpitations!”

 

“Gotcha?” Dan said with a shrug.

 

“You’re evil,” she told him. “Utterly evil.”

 

“Y’know, Phil said that earlier.” Dan picked up the iPhone and stopped the recording, then stood up and stepped past his mum to pull the camera from the linen closet.

 

“You recorded me?” His mother gasped. “Oh, but my hair’s a mess –”

 

“I figured you’d want to see your face,” Dan said. He switched the recording off and transferred to playback. He skipped over his setting up and the empty silence before she arrived, then played it.

 

His mum appeared in the hallway, her face twisted in an expression of confusion, mortification, and disbelieving. The audio played his and Phil’s fake sex noises as his mother crept towards the door. She paused outside it, then pressed her hands to her mouth. Then a half laugh came from the room, and her expression became more bewildered than before. She opened the door gingerly, and Dan stopped the playback.

 

“Gotcha,” he said, grinning.

 

Dan’s mother hit his arm with a soft thwack. “You cruel person. I thought I was going to have to take another loop around the neighborhood.”

 

Dan just grinned, then handed her the camera and took the other camera from the foyer table. He switched it off and stepped past his mother back into his bedroom, taking both cameras and storing them back in the closet.

 

“What are you doing here anyway, Phil?” asked Dan’s mum. “Not that I’m not pleased to see you, but I don’t have any work for you.”

 

“My little sister has friends over for the night and Dan kindly offered me a safe haven from a house filled with eight-year-old girls,” Phil mumbled around the duvet that was still covering his face.

 

“You begged me,” Dan said, “I did not just offer it, I said yes so you’d stop bothering me.”

 

Dan’s mother looked between them, then shook her head and left the room. Dan sniggered, crossing to his desk and sitting down again.

 

“Good show, Phil,” Dan said.

 

“I’m glad you enjoyed it, because I'm never doing that again,” Phil said, finally extracting himself from the bed covers and meeting Dan’s gaze.

 

“Oh, never?” Dan said. “Shame.”

 

Phil shook his head, then fell forward to bury his face in Dan’s blankets again. Dan shook his head at him.

 

“Erm, if you’ve got a guest, then I suppose our normal Wednesday night dinner won’t be enough,” Dan’s mother said, appearing in the doorway again.

 

“What’s our normal Wednesday night dinner?” Dan asked.

 

“Leftovers from Tuesday. Of which there’s not enough for three people. So what do you guys want for dinner?”

 

“I’ve no clue,” Dan said. “Phil, what do you want to eat?”

 

Phil sat up again, then shrugged. Dan’s mother checked her watch, then looked back at Dan. “What about Chinese? That place downtown with the good rice lo mein.”

 

“Fo mein,” Dan corrected. “But they don’t deliver.”

 

“Oh. Well, go pick it up then.” His mother tossed him her car keys and wallet and turned away. “Get me hot and sour soup and the fo mein or whatever it’s called.”

 

Dan looked down at the keys, then back at Phil and shrugged. “Wanna go with me? It’s not far and they’re quick.”

 

“Erm, yeah, sure,” Phil said. “I didn’t know you drove, though.”

 

“What do I look like, a twelve year old?” Dan asked, standing and looking around for his jumper before deciding to forgo it and pulled his leather jacket on over his tee shirt. “Course I can drive.”

 

“I’ve never seen you drive though.”

 

“My mum prefers driving herself,” Dan said. “And I honestly don’t care. You ought to get your jacket, it’s probably gotten chilly.”

 

“It’s mid-April,” Phil sighed as he pulled his coat from the end of the bed. “Why is it still so cold?”

 

“Welcome to England, mate,” Dan said. He grabbed his wallet and iPhone, then opened his mum’s wallet to take out her debit card before he left the room and started down the hallway.

 

“Oh, Dan, we’re out of cream, would you stop at the grocery store on your way back?” Dan’s mother called from the kitchen.

 

“Yeah, put whatever else we’re out of on the shopping list,” Dan called back. He and his mother each had a phone app that offered a synced shopping list across devices, which not only saved trees but Dan’s sanity since his mother tended to lose small pieces of paper. He swapped his mother's key ring for his own, transferring the car key to his ring of keys then took the stairs down, followed by Phil. Dan crossed to the car and unlocked it with a key, since it had no remote; he reached over after getting in and unlocked Phil’s door.

 

“Seatbelt,” Dan said to Phil as he got in.

 

“I know,” Phil said a bit indignantly, “I’m not twelve.”

 

“No, the seatbelt on that side is broken, you have to use the one in the middle.”

 

“Oh.” Phil slid across the seat, settling himself in the middle of the bench, his shoulder almost pressed against Dan’s.

 

Dan put the key into the ignition and turned it; the engine coughed and grunted to life, then settled into a low growling hum. He put it in reverse, then turned and, putting a hand on Phil’s shoulder, backed the car out of the driveway. He changed gears, then applied pressure to the gas pedal and pulled into the middle of the road.

 

“How old is this car?” Phil asked as Dan turned out of the neighborhood and onto a larger road.

 

“Erm, I don’t know, my granddad left it to my mum in his will, and she’s driven it since.”

 

“Seriously?” Phil asked. “It must be at least thirty years old.”

 

“Give or take,” Dan replied.

 

“It’s a wonder it still runs.”

 

“Not a wonder, my granddad was a pretty good mechanic; he kept it running like new until his death. Now, well, it’s a little worse for wear, but we manage.”

 

They fell silent, and Dan rolled the car to a stop at a red light. He pulled his phone from his pocket and unlocked it, then handed it to Phil and asked him to play some music.

 

“What do you want me to play?”

 

“Whatever catches your fancy,” Dan answered.

 

“Who’s Melanie Martinez?” Phil asked.

 

“New artist, she was on the Voice a while back I think. Emo electronic, I’d call it. Or pastel goth.”

 

“Why are all of her songs named after children’s things?”

 

“Her music looks at problems in adulthood and adolescence through the metaphorical lens of a child,” Dan recited.

 

“You sound like you’ve given this speech before.”

 

“My friends don’t understand why I like her,” Dan replied. “I think she’s got an incredible talent for metaphors and poetry.”

 

“What’s your favorite of hers?” Phil asked.

 

Dan thought a moment before answering. “Alphabet Boy or Soap.”

 

“Alphabet Boy? Really?”

 

“Play that one,” Dan said. “You’ll like it.”

 

Phil shrugged, then the opening notes of Alphabet Boy came from Dan’s phone speaker, auto-tuned and nearly a capella.

 

_“Always aiming paper airplanes at me when you’re around. You build me up like building blocks just so you can bring me down. You can crush my candy cane but you’ll never catch me cry. If you dangle that diploma and I dead you don’t be surprised....”_

 

“This is interesting,” Phil said. “I like the rhythm.”

 

Dan glanced at Phil with a furrowed brow and a smile. “That’s what you said about Troye Sivan.”

 

“I’m usually partial to rhythms over lyrics.”

 

“See, it’s the opposite with me. There’s no meaning to a rhythm if the lyrics are empty.”

 

“Yeah, but the rhythm is what gives lyrics background so they stick in your mind. It’s a lot harder to memorize poetry than songs.”

 

“Not if the poem is moving enough.”

 

“Perhaps,” Phil mused.

 

They were quiet a moment longer, letting Melanie Martinez’s voice fill the void. _“I'm not a little kid now. Watch me get big now. Spell my name on the fridge now. With all your alphabet toys. You won the spelling bee now. But are you smarter than me now? You're the prince of the playground. Little alphabet boy.”_

 

They reached the little Chinese hole in the wall before the end of the song, and as Dan shifted the car into park, Phil paused the music and pushed Dan’s phone into his pocket for him. Dan shot him a muttered thanks, then switched off the engine and unbuckled his seatbelt. He opened his door, then Phil slid out through the same door. Dan locked the car before he shut the door, and they headed up to the restaurant.

 

“Evening,” Dan said as he shut the door.

 

“Nǐ hǎo, Daniel," called the bubbly cashier, a woman in her mid-twenties with chopsticks in her hair. “How are you?” She asked in her warm voice, despite slightly lilting English.

 

“Good, thanks, Liu,” Dan replied, stepping closer to the counter. His mum had sent him here often enough that he’d taken the time to learn the cashier’s name, after all, she’d remembered his after his first visit. “How’ve you been?”

 

“Very nice, thank you, Daniel-san. Have you come for usual?”

 

“Actually, tonight I think we’re going to splurge a bit. Give us a second so Phil can look at the menu.”

 

“Of course,” Liu bowed her head with her same bright smile, then she handed a menu to him. Dan opened it and held it so Phil could see.

 

They spent a little less than ten minutes in the little restaurant, five deciding and the rest ordering. After Dan paid and Liu promised to call him when it was ready to pick up, Dan led Phil back to the car and unlocked his phone.

 

“Hey Siri,” Dan said clearly.

 

“Hey Dan,” Siri responded.

 

“Take me to the grocery store.”

 

“Which one?”

 

“How many grocery stores do you think I go to, the Tesco on Reeds street.”

 

“Calculating…”

 

Dan handed the phone to Phil and put the car in gear. “Read me the directions as they load,” he asked, looking behind him to back of the parking space.

 

It took another five minutes to get from the Chinese place to Tesco, and after switching off the ignition Dan took his phone back from Phil and shoved it into his jacket pocket. He got out, then paused and stretched; being 6”3 he wasn't exactly built to fit in his mother's car.

 

“Pardon,” Phil said, “I need to get out as well.”

 

“Oh, sorry,” Dan moved aside, letting Phil exit the car. Phil's cheeks were a little pink, but Dan didn't think anything of it. He grabbed a nearby cart and took his phone back out, pushing the cart with one hand and opening the shopping list on his phone with the other.

 

“Cream, cereal, coffee grounds, frozen dinners, whipped cream,” Dan read aloud.

 

“What do you need whipped cream for?” Phil asked.

 

“Obviously to squirt all over our naked bodies,” Dan replied dryly. Phil snorted, and Dan looked up to see a middle-aged woman giving him a horrified look. He rolled his eyes and went back to the list. “Three pounds of ground turkey, a bag of cheese, and a dozen eggs.”

 

“Do you want to split up to get that stuff?” Phil suggested.

 

“Nah, mum is picky about brands and shit.” Dan shoved his phone into his back pocket.

 

“How eloquent of you,” quipped Phil, giving Dan an eye roll of his own.

 

“Shut up,” Dan muttered, pushing the cart faster.

 

Dan gathered everything as quick as he could, expecting Liu to call him at any time. He made sure to get two extra large cans of whipped cream, for whatever his mum wanted them for. However, when they reached the checkout lane, Dan's shoulders slumped in defeat.

 

“How did it get so crowded?” he asked in a hushed tone, staring around at every filled lane. “Even the self-check lanes are full!”

 

“And we've got more than twelve items,” Phil pointed out, “so we couldn't use them anyway.”

 

Dan leaned over the edge of the cart. “We've only got eighteen, it would've been fine.”

 

Phil looked at him scoldingly. Dan responded by sticking out his tongue and wheeling the cart into line.

 

Phil followed him, then began looking over the candy bins while they waited for the cue to shorten. “Are you hungry?” Phil asked him, looking over lollipops.

 

Dan glanced at him and shook his head with half a smirk. “No, not for that.”

 

“I might get something,” Phil said, picking up a lollipop. Dan looked at it, then smiled properly and raised an eyebrow at him.

 

“Phil, if you wanted something to suck on, all you had to do was ask,” he said softly.

 

Phil went bright red and dropped the lollipop with a soft squeak. “Dan!” he hissed.

 

“What?” asked Dan, making an innocent face.

 

Phil spluttered a moment, then turned to face the other direction. Dan laughed.

 

“I have no words,” Phil whispered.

 

“Hey, that’s usually what happens.”

 

Phil clapped a hand to his eyes with a sigh. Dan grinned wider.

 

“You are just the weirdest person I’ve ever met,” Phil sighed.

 

“Considering why you said that, I’ll take it as a compliment, princess,” Dan said, winking at him.

 

Phil blushed again, his gaze falling to the floor. “Again with the princess,” he mumbled.

 

“You like it,” Dan accused him. “You literally are a fucking Princess Peach.”

 

Phil looked at him, at the ground, then up at the ceiling and mouthed _“what did I do to deserve this?”_ Dan could hear it in C-3PO’s voice inside his head as Phil muttered it.

 

Dan smirked. “Then again, Princess Peach did have a wicked frying pan. And I’m sure Mario really appreciated her cooking skills.”

 

“Quit it before you ruin my childhood!” Phil said as half a laugh escaped his perfect lips. Dan rolled his eyes.

 

“Obviously you’ve never read Mario creepypasta,” Dan said calmly.

 

Phil looked up quickly. “Mario doesn’t have creepypasta,” he said.

 

“Sure,” Dan said, not meaning it.

 

“Daniel!”

 

“Mmm, I like the way that sounds,” Dan mused, “do that again, but add a little more breath.”

 

Phil, now a bright shade of magenta, stammered a moment longer, then he turned his back and covered his face with his hands. Dan laughed again.

 

They checked out, loaded the groceries into the car, picked up their dinner and started back to Dan’s house. Dan had finally stopped peppering Phil with dirty lines, having become worried about the amount of blood that was rushing to Phil’s head. It definitely wasn’t because of the blood rushing away from Dan’s head. Definitely wasn’t the case.

 

“Took you long enough,” Dan’s mother said as they clambered into the kitchen with the bags. “I was wondering if you’d taken a detour to an empty parking lot.”

 

Dan flushed, realizing that his prank had now given her an excuse to make her own dirty inferences. Phil set down his load and turned to face Dan with a _“fuck this shit i’m out”_ expression.

 

“I see where you get it,” he said simply, then left to go get the rest of the bags.

 

Dan snorted, and his mother looked up at him with raised eyebrows. “What did you do?” She asked with amusement.

 

“I may have, may have mind you, spent the last twenty or so minutes making innuendos,” Dan said.

 

“Daniel,” his mum said in a reproachful voice.

 

“What, they were all funny and relevant,” Dan defended himself.

 

“Making innuendos is not the proper way to woo a boy,” his mum scolded, turning her attention back to her laptop.

 

“I’m not wooing him,” Dan scoffed.

 

“Sure,” his mother replied, using the exact same tone of voice he had mere minutes before. Dan scowled. He turned and nearly walked directly into Phil, who stepped back so he didn’t spill the carton of eggs onto Dan’s front (though considering his lingering half-boner, the coldness of the eggs might have helped).

 

“Sorry,” Phil said, side-stepping.

 

“’S’fine,” Dan said, looking downward. “Is that all of it?”

 

“Yes, except I think your soul is still in the backseat, though that might have just been a shadow.”

 

Dan suppressed a laugh. “Very funny,” he said in a mocking tone, however, his mother outright laughed. He took the eggs from Phil with a pointed look and turned to put them away. “Mum, are you going to help put all this away?” He asked, calling over his shoulder.

 

“Mmm, I think not,” his mother sighed. “I’m much too busy.”

 

Dan gave his mother an unamused look. “I went out and got all of this shit for you, the least you could do is help put it away.”

 

Phil looked at him with a startled look, but Dan’s mother merely rolled her eyes and typed up one last sentence on her computer before rising.

 

“You have a very good point, my son,” she said. “However, you’re a little shit, so I think I’ll just supervise.”

 

Dan gasped mockingly. “Mother, I’m wounded.”

 

“I think that was her intention,” Phil said in a stage whisper near Dan’s ear.

 

Dan turned to him, miming a knife plunging into his heart. “Et tu, Philip?” He murmured, then collapsed onto the floor dramatically.

 

“What did I tell you,” Dan’s mother said to Phil. “He’s a drama queen and a little shit.”

 

“At least I know exactly which set of genes to blame it on,” Dan commented, pushing himself back up.

 

“Hmm, yes, I would agree that your father is a little shit, but a drama queen, less so.”

 

Dan gave her a look and set to being serious about putting away groceries. Phil stepped beside him and began to help, however, his mother was true to her word and simply hopped atop the counter to watch.

 

“Where is your father?” Phil asked as Dan handed him a carton of milk. “I’ve never met him.”

 

“He’s up in London,” Dan answered.

 

“Divorce,” his mother added. “Two years ago now.”

 

“My little brother lives with him, he goes to a fancy schmancy school for artists up there.”

 

“Be nice, Dan,” his mother told him in a scolding tone.

 

“What?” Dan responded. “I am nice!”

 

“No you’re not,” Phil said.

 

“Shut the fuck up!” Dan hissed, making both Phil and Dan’s mother laugh.

 

“You’re definitely very not nice, Daniel,” Dan’s mother said with a shake of her head. “I’m going to take the fo mein and watch my rom-com, you two can go hide in Daniel’s room, but try not to make as much noise as you were when I arrived home,” she added in a matter-of-fact tone.

 

Dan glared at her back as she took the container of food and left the kitchen. “Horrible woman!” Dan shouted after her. “How dare you make such accusations!”

 

“Horrible child!” His mother shot back with a laugh. “News flash, you’re adopted!”

 

“I’d love to believe that, but for some twisted reason Dad videotaped you giving birth to me and got my birthmark on tape to prove it!”

 

“Oh, damn, I forgot about that.”

 

“You’ve got a birthmark?” Phil asked.

 

“Yeah, a great big brown splotch right on my ass.” He looked back up at him. “I’d offer to show you, but I think that would be bordering sexual harassment of a minor.”

 

“I’m not a minor,” Phil said, “I turned eighteen in January.”

 

“Well, bully for you,” Dan said, intentionally letting the whole sexual bit drop. He put the last of the groceries into the fridge and turned to get out their dinner.

 

“I’m taking the carton of rangoons, but otherwise we can split the rest of it,” Dan said to Phil.

 

“Sounds good to me,” Phil replied, taking out the fried rice.

 

“You wanna keep watching Free!, or something else?”

 

“How about you pick this time?”

 

“I’ve really been meaning to watch that Lizzie Borden movie; it’s got Christina Ricci in it, ever seen it?”

 

Phil frowned. “Lizzie Borden? As in Lizzie Borden took an axe and gave her mother forty whacks?”

 

“Yeah, that Lizzie Borden.”

 

“That sounds suspiciously like a horror movie…” Phil mused.

 

“If you’d rather avoid that genre, we can watch something else.”

 

“No, no it’s fine, but be prepared for me to hide under something.”

 

“As long as it’s not me, that’s fine,” Dan said, grabbing a plate from a cupboard.

 

“Wait, wouldn’t you actually rather it be you?” Phil said.

 

“Dude, I’m gay, not a fucking sex machine or something.”

 

“Right, sorry.”

 

Dan rolled his eyes at Phil, but secretly the little gay boy inside that was a sex machine of him was disappointed in himself. He handed Phil a plate and began to serve himself food, then grabbed a 2 liter bottle of soda from the fridge. Then he paused and looked back to the other boy.

 

“Hey Phil, do you want any Coke?”

 

“Actually, my mother always told me to say no whenever anyone offered me drugs.”

 

Dan raised an eyebrow at him. “Cola, Phil. Coke as in cola. And now you don't get any because I'm just going to drink out of the bottle.”

 

“That's fine, I'll drink after you.”

 

“Really?” Dan asked. “You're not worried you'll catch the gay?”

 

Phil shut his eyes, raising a hand to cover them, a smile filled with the pain of a thousand puns curving his lips. “I'm pretty sure homosexuality isn't passable by saliva.”

 

“Oh, if you're sure,” Dan said with a shrug.

 

“Dan, remember that there is school tomorrow!” Dan's mother called from the living room.

 

“Phil won't let me forget it, don't worry,” Dan responded. “Come on then,” he added to Phil. “Lizzie Borden is about to take up an axe and give her mother forty whacks.”

 

“And when she sees what she's done, she'll give her father forty-one.”

 

“The question is, was she in her right mind or not?”

 

“Let's find out, then shall we?” said Phil with a warm smile.

 

Dan shook his head but smiled as he walked from the kitchen to his room. He dumped his plate and the Coke on his desk to yank the duvet up so no particles of food would end up in his sheets as Phil entered the room behind him.

 

“So other than Lizzie Borden, what is the movie about?” he asked as Dan pulled his jacket off and tossed it aside.

 

“No clue,” replied Dan, “I just find the story of Lizzie Borden fascinating.” The room felt very warm, since he’d left the space heater on all day, so he switched it off and the ceiling fan on. He glanced around the room, then grabbed a muscle shirt off the floor. He tugged the tee shirt he was wearing over his head and raised the muscle shirt up to put it on, which was when he caught a whiff of it and quickly lowered it. “Damn, why don't I do my laundry,” he muttered to himself.

 

Dan stepped past Phil and shoved the shirt into his laundry bin. He turned around and came face to face with Phil, who immediately blushed and looked away. “What?” Dan asked, looking at him with a furrowed brow.

 

“Nothing, it's nothing,” Phil muttered. “I, um, I just think your tattoo is cool.”

 

“Oh, thanks,” Dan said, turning away. It wasn’t the first time Phil had mumbled something about thinking Dan’s tattoo being cool, but being in search of something at the moment he decided to disregard it. He moved to his dresser and tugged a sleeveless shirt from it, then pulled it over his head. Phil glanced at him, then snorted.

 

“What?” Dan said once again, looking downward. “Oh, yeah,” he added, smiling himself now. The shirt read in black boldface _“if I have to put pants on, the answer is no.”_

 

“Nice,” Phil sniggered.

 

“Hey, don't judge me,” Dan laughed. “Pants are an unnecessary limitation put upon us by society. Except pajama pants.”

 

“Of course,” Phil said with a laugh. “Shall we get on with the movie then?”

 

“Yeah, Xbox, wake up!” Dan called, dropping onto his bed. “Phil, you wanna hand me my stuff?”

 

Phil turned and lifted Dan’s plate off the desk, then picked up the bottle of Coke. “Here,” he handed the plate to him, then set his own plate onto the bed; Phil set himself down beside Dan on the bed and opened the bottle of cola.

 

“Cheers,” Phil said, taking a swig from the Coke.

 

“That was mine, you know,” Dan quipped.

 

“You said you’d share,” replied Phil with a pouty lip.

 

Dan scowled playfully. “Yeah, yeah, fine, go ahead.”

 

“Yay,” said Phil with a wide grin; he leaned over and put his head on Dan’s shoulder, smiling like the sun shone from his face and he could do no wrong. The thought almost made Dan snort; though, in all honesty, that was pretty much how Dan considered him.

 

But then Phil was lifting his head and picking up his plate of food to begin eating, and Dan was looking away to find the controller to the Xbox. “Erm, Xbox, open Netflix.”

 

He found the controller by the time it had loaded; Dan found the movie and selected. It began playing, and Dan picked up his plate.

 

“Cheers,” he echoed.

 

The movie turned out to be less frightening than Dan had hoped. By the time it was over, Dan felt very full and very sleepy, but Phil looked more awake than he so he exited back to the browse.

 

“You want to watch something else?” Dan asked.

 

“I thought it was meant to be a horror movie?” Phil said questioningly in reply.

 

“I thought it was too, but I guess not. It was good though.”

 

“Yeah, if you like slasher films.”

 

“It was more of a crime drama,” Dan commented. “What about a better horror movie? One that will actually scare you.”

 

“That was scary, though!” Phil said. “Sort of?”

 

Dan rolled his eyes and flicked the left stick downward to find his list. He clicked through it a moment before finding what he was looking for.

 

“ _Woman in Black 2_?” Phil read aloud.

 

“Yep,” Dan said. “Excellent beginner horror movie.”

 

“What about _Woman in Black_ one?”

 

“That one wasn’t as scary. They’re not that connected, so it’ll be fine.”

 

“If you say so,” Phil mumbled. “But if this is really scary, prepare for me to yelp and dive under the blankets.”

 

“I’ll do my best,” Dan replied, and he played the movie.

 

 _Woman in Black_ had very excellent build-up; the suspense mounted, a few silent jumpscares adding to it, so that not even thirty minutes in Phil had huddled against Dan’s side with tensed muscles that only relaxed when the heroine spoke with her dashing army pilot.

 

When the first child was found dead, Phil whimpered softly in grief. Dan glanced at him, then down at his lap and wondered if he’d chosen poorly with the movie. Maybe he ought to have picked more of a beginner horror film, something with less graphic depiction of dead children. However, Phil remained silent after that, so Dan did as well.

 

Each new jumpscare caused Phil to start, until one finally made him cry aloud and grab Dan’s arm, pulling it around his shoulders and burying his face in the fabric of Dan’s shirt. Dan looked down at him and laughed softly. “Are you alright?” he asked.

 

“You said it was scary, not utterly terrifying!” Phil protested.

 

“But that’s the point of a horror film,” Dan chuckled. Phil shook his head rapidly.

 

“Nope,” Phil mumbled. “Nope nope nope.”

 

“Do you want to watch something else?” asked Dan, his voice becoming softer.

 

Phil slowly retracted his face from Dan’s shirt. “No, I want to know what happens.”

 

“You won’t if you keep shoving your face in my armpit,” Dan quipped.

 

Phil snorted, but he pulled back and instead rested his head on Dan’s shoulder, still holding Dan’s arm around him. “I reserve the right to hide in your armpit later,” he mumbled.

 

“Doesn’t it smell?” Dan asked; he lifted his non-imprisoned arm and sniffed. “Or not.”

 

“Shhh, they’re talking,” Phil muttered, hastily pressing a hand to Dan’s mouth. Dan pushed Phil’s hand away, but Phil just returned it to his arm, holding it in place. Dan looked up at the TV, rather confused. He shook his head slightly and chalked it up to Phil being nervous and, well, Phil. Innocent and sweet, not the kind who watched horror films for shits and giggles.

 

As the movie came to an end, Phil gasped audibly when the dashing pilot drowned, then began to sniff as it came to a close and Edward and the heroine of the movie ended up living together in London. As the two of them left her apartment and the camera panned to the framed photograph on the mantle, Phil gave a satisfied smile.

 

“I like it when there’s happy endings,” Phil murmured.

 

Dan immediately felt guilty. “Sorry,” he said.

 

“For what?” Phil glanced at him, then back to the screen. Then the photograph cracked, and the Woman in Black flashed across the screen. “No!” Phil gasped. “She’s still there!”

 

“Yeah, sorry,” Dan said again. “We’re not in Disney anymore. Happy endings are not a thing.”

 

Phil straightened up and scowled at him. “Happy endings are always a thing,” he said with a pout.

 

Dan shrugged. “Sorry,” he said once more. “Again, we’re not in Disney.”

 

Phil pursed his lips in a scowl, then, finally releasing Dan’s arm, crossed his own arms over his chest and pouted at the TV screen. Dan laughed at this, but he left his arm over Phil’s shoulders.

 

“I’m picking now,” Phil said, grabbing the controller from the foot of the bed. “We’re going to watch Disney.”

 

“What?” Dan spluttered. “I don’t watch Disney! Except for Pirates of the Caribbean and Star Wars!”

 

“Too bad,” Phil said with his nose stuck in the air. “You’re watching Disney tonight.”

 

“At least make it a good one,” Dan begged. “Not any of that princess shit.”

 

“You know what, Dan?” Phil started.

 

“What?” Dan asked when Phil hesitated.

 

“We’re going to watch a Disney princess film.”

 

Dan groaned. “Oh, come on, Phil.”

 

“Nope, you asked for it when you started calling me princess.”

 

“But I was mocking you!”

 

“Nope. We’re watching Tangled.”

 

Dan let his head fall backwards against his bedframe with a groan. “Come on, that one is so girly!”

 

“We just watched two movies picked by you and both were very graphic,” Phil pointed out. “You can just suck it up and watch Tangled with me.”

 

Dan glared at Phil, holding back a grin of awkwardness. “You’re a little shit, you know that, right?”

 

“I care not, Daniel.”

 

“Oh, god, don’t call me Daniel,” said Dan with a gag.

 

“Or you’ll what?” Phil challenged. “Call me princess?”

 

Dan’s glare changed to a raised eyebrow. “Alright then. Watch your step, princess,” he said in a voice dripping with malicious mischievousness. “One of these days I’m liable to beat you black and blue.”

 

At that, Phil’s lips curled in a smirk and he looked away from Dan, to the controller held loosely in his hands. Then he lifted his gaze back up to Dan’s and, with that same smirk, said: “You’d never do that to your princess.”

 

Dan’s breath hitched; he fought to maintain a cool exterior, whereas his heart had started beating rapidly and he was pretty sure those words alone were enough to give him an erection. “My princess?” he said with a snort. “Phil, you’re not my anything.”

 

Phil simply shrugged, then he turned back to the TV and played the movie. Then he settled back against Dan’s shoulder, his hands going back to Dan’s arm to hold it in place over his shoulders. He didn’t need to, though. Dan wouldn’t dare move his arm away, in fear Phil would separate himself from him. It was probably the only time he’d ever get to hold this innocent, precious he’d even say, boy. His princess.

 

Dan was not in any way the kind of boy to typically enjoy a Disney princess film, but he had to admit that Rapunzel was a lovable character and the music was all quite excellent. There was, of course, a happy ending; it was Disney. It was predictable: The girl got the prince charming, the villain was vanquished, the kingdom set to rights, but it was at least a good happy ending. There were plenty of films and books he’d experienced that could have done with a sadder ending than the one they had, so he was grateful for the fact that the way it ended made sense. But he was more grateful for the warm weight on his shoulder, that never moved, and stayed close to his side. He loved that experience.

 

It was after midnight when Tangled ended, and though neither of them were close to being asleep, Phil lifted the controller and exited Netflix. He dropped his head back onto Dan’s shoulder, his eyes falling shut.

 

“Do you want to go to sleep?” Dan asked him.

 

“No, not really,” answered Phil in a murmur.

 

“What do you want to do then?”

 

“I don’t really know a lot about you.”

 

Dan was taken aback; he looked down at Phil with a raised eyebrow. “That is an extremely random point, despite true.”

 

“We should play a game,” Phil said.

 

“Okay. Like what?”

 

Before Phil answered, Dan’s mother rapped her knuckles on the slightly open door and called “Lights out, boys!”

 

Dan glanced at the lightswitch all the way across the room, then at his arm around Phil’s shoulders. “Yeah, sure Mum,” he said, raising his voice for her to hear him, then he reluctantly withdrew his arm and slipped off of the bed. His side immediately felt uncomfortably cold, as though the absence of Phil’s weight was something his body rejected. Dan grabbed the dishes and half empty bottle of Coke off the bed and dumped them on his desk before hitting the lightswitch, plunging the room into darkness. He blinked for a moment, letting his retinas adjust, then stepped forward and felt for the bed in front of him. He found it, then climbed onto it and towards his night-table and the small, low-light lamp.

 

“Dan?”

 

“What?”

 

“Erm, is that your hand?”

 

Dan looked down at both of his hands, which were directly in front of him. “Both of my hands are present and accounted for.”

 

“Not anywhere near my ankle?”

 

“Definitely not, why?”

 

“Dan, something’s touching me.”

 

Dan glanced around in the dark, but saw nothing; he did have rather good night vision, so it wasn’t the darkness. “There’s nothing in here but us,” he said.

 

“It’s cold!”

 

“What are you on about?” Dan asked, finding the switch to his lamp and flicking it. He turned around to face Phil, who was still blinking at the small but sudden light. He found Phil’s ankle, stretched out on the duvet, and raised one eyebrow. He looked up at Phil with an expression of _“are you shitting me?”_ He picked up the piece of broccoli that had fallen off of someone’s plate, likely Phil’s, and dangled it in front of Phil’s nose.

 

“Is this the thing grabbing your ankle?” He asked.

 

Phil’s blush was visible even in the dimness. Dan shook his head, then leaned over the edge of the bed to drop the broccoli into his waste bin. Dan clambered back to where he'd been sitting before, when Phil had been leaning on him. As Dan found his seat, he half wished Phil would grab his arm and drape it over his shoulders, just to feel the heat seeping from Phil to him.

 

But Phil didn't, he just resettled himself to lie on his side and propped up on an elbow to look up at Dan. Dan shifted to face him more squarely. “Game,” he said.

 

“Yes,” replied Phil.

 

“What game?”

 

Phil was quiet a moment while he thought about this, and when he answered it was in a soft tone that was only suitable for the near darkness they sat in. “Never have I ever.”

 

Dan gave a shrug and held up his hands. “Five or ten?”

 

“Ten. You go first.”

 

“Right,” Dan paused to think. “Never have I ever been out of the country.”

 

“Really, right off the bat?” Phil said with a sigh. “I've been to Florida, in America.”

 

“Haha, you lose a life.”

 

“Shush. Never have I ever broken a bone.”

 

“Neither have I,” Dan replied. “Never have I ever had a pet larger than a house cat.”

 

“My mum had a really old Jack Russell when I was a kid, but I don't remember if he was bigger than a cat.”

 

“Alright, I'll let that one slide; that makes it your turn.”

 

Phil thought for a second, then said: “Never have I ever had an intense kiss in a public space.”

 

Dan scowled. He'd done more than intense kissing in public spaces, so he put a finger down silently. Phil raised an eyebrow.

 

“Really?” he asked, his voice more curious than reproachful.

 

“I don't kiss and tell,” Dan said with an air of overstuffed dignity. “Mostly because I don't remember all of them.”

 

Phil's eyebrow dropped, instead furrowing together. “What does that mean?”

 

“Well, it means either that I'm a whore,” Dan said with a laugh, “or I get too invested at parties.”

 

“I didn't think you the party type.”

 

“It really depends on who's throwing the party; if it's one of my friends I'll sometimes go. Though, there have been quite a few times that Carter dragged me to some of his crowd’s parties, but those I really don’t remember.”

 

“Oh.” They were quiet a second then Phil added: “It's your turn.”

 

“Oh, right. Erm… never have I never been called a teacher's pet.”

 

“Oh that's mean,” Phil said, dropping a finger.

 

“How is that mean?” Dan asked with a soft laugh.

 

“Because you were the one who first started calling me teacher’s pet!

 

“Was I, I don't recall.”

 

Phil scowled at him a second, then smirked and said: “Never have I ever kissed a boy.”

 

Now Dan was scowling. “You're horrid, Phil Lester, horrid.”

 

Phil simply shrugged and smirked at Dan while he waited for him to speak. Dan thought carefully, trying to think of something he'd never done and Phil probably had.

 

“Never have I ever had a year of straight A’s,” he said finally.

 

“Plot twist, neither have I.”

 

“Are you kidding me?” Dan said. “Your had to have had straight A's at least once.”

 

“Nope. I am consistently horrible with science.”

 

Dan scowled. “Fuck your science grade,” he mumbled.

 

“That would be rather difficult, considering it’s an abstract concept.”

 

“Oh, shut up, it’s your turn.”

 

Phil pursed his lips while he thought, his fingers drumming on the duvet. “Never have I ever… Never have I ever eaten sushi.”

 

“You should, it’s good,” Dan said, putting down a finger. “Never have I ever been to the continent.”

 

“Neither have I.” Phil suddenly yawned, and he covered his mouth with his hand. Dan thought that was incredibly cute; he quickly looked away. “Never have I ever sworn in front of a child younger than ten.”

 

“Ha, I’ve never done that!” Dan said in triumph. “At least not loud enough for them to hear me.”

 

“Crap, I was hoping you’d done that. Your go.”

 

“Never have I ever lived in the same house longer than seven years.”

 

“You’re horrible, you know that.”

 

“You’ve lived in the same house your whole life?”

 

“No, but I did live in the same house in Manchester for about nine years before moving here.”

 

“Gotcha.”

 

Phil stuck his tongue out at Dan, who laughed. “Never have I ever been caught in even a slightly compromising position.”

 

“Well, shit,” Dan sighed. “My mother’s walked in on me having sex before.”

 

“You know, I gathered that from our conversation before pranking her.”

 

“Yeah. Erm… Never have I ever been on an actual train, not the tube, a legit train.”

 

Phil dropped a finger, then said: “Never have I ever owned a pet fish.”

 

Dan looked at him, his eyebrows knit together. “Really? That’s what you’re going for?”

 

“What? I haven’t!”

 

“Do that one again, that was incredibly lame.”

 

“Wait, have you ever owned a pet fish?”

 

“No, I haven’t, which is why you’re going again.”

 

Phil sighed. “Fine. Never have I ever ridden a horse.”

 

“There you go, that’s much better,” Dan shook his head; he’d never ridden a horse either so he didn’t put down a finger. They were even at the moment, seven to seven, so he tried to think of something Phil had probably done. “Never have I ever kissed a girl.”

 

“Does it count if it was nonconsensual?” Phil asked.

 

“What does that mean?” Dan asked, looking at him with a furrowed brow.

 

“Well, the only time I ever kissed a girl, she kissed me and I wasn’t consulted on the situation.”

 

“Are you telling me that a girl kissed you and you did not want it to happen? Cause I don’t speak nerd.”

 

“Kind of, yeah. Well, there was a time I accidentally kissed my cousin when I was eight, but that should not count either.”

 

Dan shook his head at him. “I don’t want to know. Sure, that doesn’t count.”

 

Phil resettled himself, tapping his fingers against the duvet again. “Never have I ever met a celebrity.”

 

Dan dropped a finger. “My mother took me to meet this actor I loved when I was seven.”

 

“Do you remember the actor?”

 

“Nope. Mum probably does though.”

 

“So, your turn.”

 

“Never have I ever… actually enjoyed a history lesson at school.”

 

Phil, looking a little shameful, dropped a finger. Dan looked at him with utter disgust.

 

“Don’t judge me, the teacher was hot,” Phil muttered.

 

Dan rolled his eyes, trying not to think of a young Phil drooling at the sight of some fresh-faced History teacher in heels and a short dress. “Just go,” he said with a sigh.

 

“Never have I ever been to a sports game other than school ones.”

 

“Dammit, my dad made me go to a rugby game last year.” Dan dropped his finger. “Never have I ever taken karate.”

 

“I did for about a year when I was six,” Phil said, looking up at him. “I wasn’t very good.”

 

“I don’t imagine most six-year-olds are. Go on.”

 

“Erm… Never have I ever been in a play.”

 

“I was stage-crew once, but not in the play. Never have I ever played and won a game of chess.”

 

Phil dropped a finger. “I used to be very good at chess, but puberty stole my skill. Never have I ever gotten a piercing.”

 

“That was deliberate,” Dan said, dropping a finger; his face had plenty of piercings, eyebrows, lip, a nose stud, and his ears were pierced in more than one place. “Never have I ever worn a flower crown.”

 

Phil suddenly sat up and leaned over the edge of the bed; he fell back against the pillows and dropped something onto Dan’s head. Dan grabbed at whatever it was, then glowered Phil, who grinned innocently.

 

“There, you’ve worn a flower crown,” Phil said, picking it up and dropping it daintily onto his hair.

 

“That does not count,” Dan said.

 

“Yes it does,” Phil insisted. “You’ll just have to pick a different one.”

 

“Fuck you, Phil,” Dan muttered, trying to think.

 

Phil was quiet a second, then he said: “No comment.”

 

Dan frowned at him. “What? What does no comment mean?”

 

“No comment.”

 

“Phil,” Dan groaned, covering his eyes with his hands. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

 

Phil looked at him, then smiled and said “No comment.”

 

Dan shook his head. “Never have I ever willingly worn a flower crown,” he said.

 

“Fine. Never have I ever failed a class.”

 

“Ha! I’ve not done that!”

 

“Darn it.”

 

“Never have I ever ogled a teacher.”

 

“That’s not fair!” Phil whined.

 

“And making me wear your silly flower crown is?” Dan countered. Phil crossed his arms over his chest and pouted, sticking his bottom lip out. Dan’s gaze fell onto it; he inhaled and tried to think of something else, something other than Phil’s bottom lip and getting to pull at it with his teeth. He cleared his throat and looked away.

 

“Never have I ever been to London,” Phil said.

 

Dan dropped a finger, leaving him with only two. “Never have I ever not wanted tattoos.”

 

“You know, I have been thinking about getting one lately.”

 

Dan raised an eyebrow. “Really? What would you get?”

 

Phil shrugged. “I was thinking my star sign, and maybe my favorite flower.”

 

“You should go to the guy I went to, he’s really good.”

 

“Would you go with me?”

 

Dan hesitated. “Sure, I guess. Erm, why me?”

 

Phil shrugged. “You’re the only person I know with a tattoo.”

 

“I’ll accept that.”

 

Phil shifted again, so he was lying completely on his back, but he tilted his face up to gaze at Dan. “Never have I ever told the person I fancied that I liked them,” he said in a quiet voice.

 

Dan nodded, dropping a finger so he only had one. Phil had two, beating him for the lead. “Never have I ever had a person tell me that they fancied me,” he said, looking down at Phil.

 

Phil looked at his two fingers and sighed, folding one. He looked back up at Dan, an expression of ponderance on his face. “Never have I ever done this before.”

 

“Done what?” Dan asked.

 

“What we're doing right now. Lying next to someone in the dark, playing a game and trying to stay awake because the other person doesn't appear tired yet.”

 

“You mean. like... a sleepover?” Dan asked, raising an eyebrow.

 

“Kind of, I guess. I mean, I've spent nights at other people’s houses before, but I've never shared the same bed as my host.”

 

“Oh. I guess that makes sense. It's a first for me too, if that helps.”

 

“No, because that means I won't win.”

 

Dan laughed, shaking his head. “Alright. Never have I ever told someone that I'm secretly,” he paused, looking down at Phil, “a nerd.”

 

Phil laughed. “I've told many people that I'm a nerd, but it's never been secret.”

 

“Then I guess it doesn't count.”

 

“Alright then,” Phil paused, then he began again in a quieter tone, “never have I ever… never have I ever liked…”

 

“Liked what?” Dan asked when Phil did not finish.

 

“Zombie movies,” Phil said, his voice becoming almost emptier.

 

Dan scowled and dropped his last finger. “You win,” he muttered.

 

Phil grinned up at him. “Yay me,” he whispered.

 

“Yay fucking you,” Dan said with a sigh. He turned over and switched off his lamp, then lay back against the pillows.

 

“You know what?” Phil said.

 

“What?”

 

“It just occurred to me that we never put on pajamas.”

 

Dan turned his head and could just barely make out the profile of Phil's face in the darkness. “That is an excellent point.”

 

“Do you have anything I could borrow?”

 

Dan nodded; he pushed himself up and stepped gingerly toward his dresser. He opened the bottom drawer and tugged out two pairs of pajama pants, then a tee shirt for Phil. “Here,” he said, tossing them onto the bed, “shirt and pants.”

 

“Thanks,” Phil said, and Dan saw his silhouette rise from the bed then began unbuttoning his shirt. Dan looked away, then quickly stripped off his jeans and threw them to his laundry hamper, then tugged on the pants.

 

Dan went to pull his shirt off, since he normally slept shirtless, but paused, glancing at Phil. “Hey,” he said.

 

“Hi,” replied Phil. “Why are we greeting each other?”

 

“We're not, you're just weird. Um, I normally don't sleep with a shirt on, I figured I should ask, make sure that it wouldn't make you uncomfortable if I didn't tonight.”

 

“That's fine, I don't mind,” Phil told him, and Dan nodded again, then pulled the shirt off and threw it in the same direction. He stepped back to his bed and pulled back the blankets. Opposite him, Phil drew back the duvet as well, then they both climbed beneath the sheets.

 

“Could you put my glasses on your nightstand?” Phil asked.

 

“Yeah, sure,” Dan held out his hand, and Phil pressed a pair of glasses into it. Dan reached over and set them on the nightstand, well away from the edge.

 

“I warn you, I might accidentally bump into you during the night,” Phil murmured.

 

“I'll give you the same warning, Phil, we're bound to touch each other along the way, it's not a king size bed.”

 

“I was just saying.”

 

Dan turned over onto his side, facing Phil. “You apologize a lot,” he said.

 

Phil glanced at him, apparently surprised. “I guess I do, yeah. I don't like to make people uncomfortable.”

 

“You don't have to, you know. It’s not always your fault.”

 

Phil shrugged, his movement sending a quiver through the mattress. “I guess not. I'm just that kind of person.”

 

Dan turned away, now staring up at the ceiling, unsure of what else to say. They were quiet, the soft sound of their breathing filling the air. Dan's gaze dropped down to Phil's face, his cheekbones and nose and forehead only barely illuminated by what little light streamed from the curtained windows. His skin appeared palest blue in the low light, stained so by the moon's reaching fingers, and his thin lips, pressed together in silence, seemed purple. He was, in truth, beautiful.

 

Dan looked away before Phil could turn to meet his gaze; he had surely gotten himself in a heap of mess with this, with the situation and being so close to him, skin nearly touching and breath mingling. He shifted, rolling onto his other side. He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply.

 

“Hey, Dan?”

 

“Yeah,” Dan mumbled.

 

“When… when did you first know that you were gay?”

 

Dan blinked, then rolled back over and gazed at Phil with raised eyebrows. “That is a very random question.”

 

“Well, it's past one in the morning, my mind is fuzzy.”

 

“Okay, um, well…” Dan exhaled slowly, unknowing of how to answer. “I guess, I don't know, I think always. I mean, I didn’t really get what it meant to be gay at all until at least middle school, and I don’t think I really made the connection between homosexuality and me until later, but I kind of knew all along, I think.”

 

Phil was silent a moment, then: “You didn’t have a moment where you just realized “Oh, mushrooms, I’m gay?’”

 

Dan laughed, shaking his head slightly. “Definitely wasn’t an “oh mushrooms” moment, but not really. It was more like I just saw girls as pretty but not attractive to me, and that was the way I thought the entire time. I just started out like that.”

 

“Oh.”

 

Dan slipped an arm under his pillow, raising his head up a bit. He watched Phil blink up at the ceiling, slowly breathing in through his mouth, until Phil spoke again.

 

“I was just curious,” he mumbled.

 

“That’s okay,” Dan replied. “Better than you believing in stereotypes or some shit like that.”

 

“I think I’ll go to sleep now,” Phil said, his voice quiet. “It’s pretty late.”

 

Dan glanced over his shoulder at the digital alarm clock on the nightstand; it was quarter to two. “Yeah, sure. I’ll wake you up when my alarm goes off.”

 

“Thanks.”

 

Phil shifted onto his side, facing away from Dan, so Dan did the same, turning to stare at the floor by his bed. He needed to vacuum his carpet soon.

 

The sound of Andy Biersack’s purring voice singing the chorus of “Asshole” broke into Dan’s dream, and by the time Dan opened his eyes to find his phone, he couldn’t remember what the dream was about. That really irritated him, whatever it was had been so pleasant. He thought it had something to do with Phil, he could vaguely remember Phil’s smile and holding him in a tight embrace. Dan fumbled around on the nightstand, squinting against the light until his fingers hit the screen and the music was cut off, either by his snoozing or dismissing the alarm. Dan draped his arm over his eyes, grumbling incoherently. He’d turned onto his back during the night, and probably pulled one of his pillows to his chest, since there was a weight on his other arm. Dan rubbed at his eyes, then dropped his hand to his chest. His eyes shot open, and he looked down suddenly.

 

His hand had fallen over another hand, one with half curled fingers, resting over his sternum. Dan looked to his left, and found Phil lying half on his stomach, nestled against Dan’s side, his head on his shoulder and pinning Dan’s arm to the bed. Dan looked up at the ceiling, then at the door, and hoped to Jesus and Buddha and all the saints and other heavenly bodies above and beyond that his mother would not open that door before he had a chance to extract himself from the bed.

 

And yet… he hesitated. He looked back to Phil, at his closed eyes and dark eyelashes and his slightly parted lips that were so close to his skin, that each exhale tingled like static electricity. The faint scent of flowers lingered in Dan’s nostrils, something clean and fresh. Dan’s heart had quickened the instant he’d realized Phil had drawn so close beside him, but now it pumped at a steady rhythm, as if his heart found the situation normal, that there was no reason for it to beat faster once his moment of surprise had ended. Phil looked even more alluring up close.

 

_“OH! I’ve lost my fucking mind; it happens all the time. Cause I can’t stand myself, I’m an asshole baby!”_

 

Dan glanced away, then grabbed his phone off of the night table. He dismissed the alarm and dropped the phone onto the bed. He needed to get up, to get out of Phil’s arms before he woke up, otherwise the situation would be made so much worse. But as he was contemplating ways of slipping away, Phil stirred; he shifted his body closer, nuzzling his head against Dan’s shoulder. He exhaled more forcefully, sending shivers down Dan’s spine. Phil mumbled something Dan couldn’t understand, his lips grazing Dan’s skin; it was soft and simple and in no way sexual, but it felt more arousing than anything Carter or anyone else had ever done.

 

Dan had to get up, he had to get out before he started to get an erection. He tried to slide away, however Phil extended his arm and lay it over Dan’s chest, trapping him in a sleepy embrace. Phil’s fingers twitched, an accidental caress over his ribs, and the sensation felt both foreign and familiar.

 

“Shit,” Dan muttered. Phil stirred again, his face tilting upward. “Shit, shit, shit, shit,” Dan tried to keep his voice as tiny as possible, but he shouldn’t have spoken at all; Phil’s eyes opened.

 

Phil lifted his head and met his gaze with one eye already closing, then gave him a sleepy smile. “Morning,” he whispered, settling back on Dan’s shoulder. “What time is it?”

 

“Erm, seven something,” Dan said, glancing at Phil’s arm still draped over his chest. “Erm, we should probably get up.”

 

“Five more minutes,” Phil mumbled, and his lips brushed across Dan’s skin again. When he shivered, Phil glanced upward, his eyes only half open. “Are you cold?” He asked softly.

 

“No,” Dan answered. Quite the opposite, he thought. Phil nodded vaguely and shut his eyes again.

 

“We really do need to get up,” Dan said. “It’s, um,” he grabbed his phone and woke the screen. “Seven fifteen.”

 

“When does the bus get here?” Phil mumbled, his eyes still shut and seemingly barely awake.

 

“Eight.”

 

“We have ages then,” Phil said.

 

Dan tried to fathom why the hell Phil wasn’t moving; he was practically laying on Dan, yet he seemed content to remain just where he was. “Erm, Phil?”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“I, uh, I’d like to get a shower, if you don’t mind.”

 

“Kay.”

 

“But, you’re, um, you’re kind of on top of me.”

 

Phil yawned then. He covered his mouth with his hand, his eyes squeezing more tightly shut. He didn’t reply to Dan, simply settled back and seemed to want to go back to sleep.

 

“Phil?” Dan repeated.

 

“Mmm,” was all Phil said.

 

“Could – could I get up?”

 

“I’m not stopping you,” he mumbled, only barely loud enough for Dan to hear.

 

“Phil, you’re on top of me. I can’t get up until you move.”

 

Phil opened his eyes again, this time with a frown, looking at his arm resting on Dan’s chest, and the shoulder he was using as a pillow. “Oh. Sorry.” Phil pulled his arm back, slipping away and back to the other side of the bed. Dan immediately regretted it; he felt so cold all of a sudden. Phil closed his eyes again and hugged a pillow to his chest. He was still half-asleep.

 

Dan sat up and slipped out from under the blankets. Phil’s state of only being a little awake must have been why he hadn’t moved on his own. That had to be it. Despite the cold he then felt, Dan was glad he’d been able to get up before Phil’s close presence, the breath falling on his neck and the lips brushing against him got him to a further state of unkempt. He showered quickly under lukewarm water, trying to forget those sensations, trying to return his mind to normal.

 

He found Phil sitting up when he exited his bathroom; he’d found his phone and glasses and was scrolling on something when Dan closed the bathroom door, wearing just a towel around his waist. Phil looked up, then quickly away, his cheeks getting pink.

 

“There’s a spare toothbrush in there, if you’d like to brush your teeth,” Dan said, crossing to his chest of drawers. “Top drawer of the cabinet, in a package.”

 

“Thanks,” Phil mumbled in reply; he set down his phone and entered the bathroom, pushing it shut behind him. Dan took the opportunity to don boxers and a pair of jeans, then ruffled his hair with the towel to dry it. He didn’t put a shirt on just yet, rather he knocked on the bathroom door and opened it to fix his hair. Phil was rinsing his mouth when Dan entered, and again, Phil quickly looked away. Dan chalked it up to awkwardness after realizing what position he’d woken up in, and grabbed the hair dryer off of a shelf.

 

“S’cuse me,” Phil said quietly; Dan stepped forward, pressing against the sink so Phil could get by, but the narrowness of the bathroom meant that he still brushed against Dan’s back and ass. Phil paused in the doorway, his gaze on the mirror.

 

“I really like your tattoo,” Phil said.

 

“Thanks,” Dan replied, drying his dyed-red fringe.

 

“Why’d you pick that design?”

 

Dan shrugged. “I like dragons.”

 

Phil nodded vaguely. “When's your birthday?” he asked suddenly.

 

“June 11, why?”

 

“You're a Gemini, then,” Phil murmured.

 

Dan raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, so?”

 

Phil shrugged. “Nothing. I'm an Aquarius.”

 

“Cool,” said Dan, as he knew of nothing else he could say.

 

He put down the hair dryer and reached for his straightener, as his hair was now a curly mess. He combed his fingers through it, grimacing a little.

 

“I hate having hobbit hair,” He muttered to himself, switching the straightener on and wishing it would heat faster.

 

“I think it's cute,” Phil declared.

 

“You think everything is cute, Phil,” Dan replied with a drawl.

 

“Curly hair and dimples especially.”

 

“Well whoop de fucking doo,” muttered Dan, as he wasn’t quite sure if Phil was being sarcastic or not.

 

He saw in the mirror Phil smile and drop his gaze to the ground. Dan flicked his gaze back to the straightener, and saw the red ready light. He grabbed a chunk of hair and began work.

 

Ten minutes later, Dan turned the straightener off and set it on the counter. He grabbed an alcohol swab from a basket and quickly cleaned his lip ring, smacking his lips at the foul taste, then stepped to the door. “Pardon,” he said, and Phil quickly backed up. Dan moved back into his room and grabbed a tee shirt from his dresser, then threw it on.

 

“Phil, do you want to borrow clothes or wear what you wore yesterday?”

 

“I'll just wear the same thing,” Phil said, sitting down on the bed and picking up his discarded clothing from the previous day; baby blue skinny jeans and a short sleeve dress shirt of the same color, bearing a mint green rose on the breast pocket. “I imagine that anything you could lend me would be mostly black, and I look like a miserable funeral goer dressed in nothing but black.” Dan turned away while Phil changed his pants, looking back after a moment to see that Phil hadn't put his shirt back on yet. He glanced over the boy's shoulders, at the few hairs drawn over his chest and stomach, the curve of his collar bone. Then Phil had pulled the shirt on and Dan looked away.

 

“Right,” Dan muttered, stepping over to his desk. He'd grabbed his phone already, so he just picked up his book bag and pushed his Macbook into it. He pushed his wallet into his back pocket, then grabbed his jacket and keys. He stepped to the door, waited until Phil had gathered up his things, then pulled the door open and stepped out.

 

“Morning, sweetie,” Dan's mother said as they entered the kitchen. She glanced at Phil and added: “Morning, Phil.”

 

“Good morning, Mrs Howell,” Phil replied.

 

“You two sleep well?” she asked. “If at all.”

 

“Yeah, we went to sleep around one,” Dan answered. “You made regular coffee, right?”

 

“We don't even have decaf grounds,” his mother said. “There's cereal, toaster waffles, bread for toast, and some microwave breakfast sandwiches in the freezer, Phil, have whatever you like.”

 

“Cereal is fine,” Phil said.

 

“Dan, show him the cereals.”

 

“What am I, the butler?” Dan muttered, but he opened the pantry and showed Phil their selection of cereals.

 

“I normally just eat frosted shreddies, but you can have whatever you like,” Dan said as he took down the box of shreddies.

 

“I'll have that,” Phil said. Dan nodded and took two bowls from the cupboard.

 

“Phil, there's mugs in the cabinet above the coffee maker,” said Dan's mother, “sugar is there and cream in the fridge.”

 

“Thanks, Mrs Howell,” Phil said again, then to Dan: “Which mug do you want?”

 

“Get me the Lego one,” Dan told him. Phil took two mugs from the cupboard while Dan poured cereal into both bowls, then milk. He handed the carton of half and half to Phil before taking spoons from a drawer and setting the two bowls on the breakfast bar.

 

“Thank you,” Phil said as He took a stool.

 

“You two better eat quickly,” Dan's mum commented from the table. “Bus will be here in about fifteen minutes.”

 

Dan took a gulp of coffee. “Right,” he said to his mum. He started on his cereal, taking large mouthfuls.

 

“Dan, when you get there would you stop by the teacher’s lounge and ask Mr. Robinson if he finished with my book on early Greco-Roman culture?”

 

“Mum, I’m not allowed in the teacher’s lounge,” Dan said. “Why can’t you just ask him?”

 

“He’s leaving before I get there,” she answered; her only classes were past ten, as the year one’s first class began an hour after the upperclassmen.

 

“Why’s Robinson leaving?” Dan asked around a mouthful of cereal.

 

“Phil, dear, hit him on the arm for talking with his mouth full for me, please,” Dan’s mother said in a bored tone.

 

Phil glanced between them, then lightly slapped Dan’s arm. Dan rolled his eyes and swallowed.

 

“Why is Robinson leaving early?” He asked again.

 

“He has a wedding out in the country, his youngest daughter.”

 

“But why’s he leaving today?”

 

“Apparently the rehearsal dinner is tonight,” she told him.

 

“I don’t get why weddings have to be rehearsed,” Dan muttered. “Yeah, I’ll ask him if I see him.”

 

“Thank you, darling,” she said. Dan shoved another spoonful into his mouth.

 

“You’re liable to spill and ruin your shirt if you’re so hasty,” Phil commented.

 

Dan glanced down at his shirt; Phil did have a point, if he spilled, he would have to change. Dan pushed his chair back some and tugged the shirt off. “There,” Dan said with a smirk.

 

Phil turned pink. “That works,” he muttered.

 

“Daniel, please don’t go shirtless in the eating area,” called his mother.

 

“But I’m eating quickly and if I spill, I’ll have to go back and find a clean shirt!” Dan protested.

 

His mother glanced at her watch. “Fine, but this time only.”

 

Dan allowed himself a triumphant smile, tucking back into his cereal. He glanced up at Phil, and noticed that he was looking at him already. Dan raised an eyebrow, and Phil looked away quickly with a little blush. Dan’s smile became something softer as he dropped his own gaze to his bowl. Phil’s blush was cute.

 

The instant Dan had finished his cereal, Phil picked up his bowl and deposited both his and Dan’s in the sink. Dan shot him a thanks and drained his coffee mug, then grabbed his shirt and shrugged it back on. He missed the brief expression of disappointment that crossed Phil’s face, however, though Dan’s mother did not. Dan caught his mum smirking slightly at her computer screen and frowned, then shrugged and grabbed his jacket and keys.

 

“See you later, Mum!” Dan called as he led Phil from the kitchen.

 

“Bye, have a good day sweetheart!”

 

Dan locked the door behind him and stepped off the front porch onto the walkway. Phil fell into step beside him, his hands pushed deep in the pocket of his white jacket. Dan pulled on his own leather jacket as they began to walk, quickly pushing a hand into his pocket to be sure that his headphones were there; they were, and Dan pulled his hands back out, letting them swing slightly at his side.

 

Dan glanced at Phil out of the corner of his eye, then looked back to his feet, stepping one in front of the other over white concrete. He cleared his throat.

 

“What?” said Phil.

 

“Are we – erm, are we going to talk about this morning? About what happened, I mean, when… when we woke up?” Dan asked in a quiet tone.

 

Phil took a moment to reply, and when he did, it was in a small voice. “No.”

 

Dan looked up at him, to see Phil’s eyes on the ground and his shoulders drooping, something akin to sadness or embarrassment in his crystal blue eyes. Dan glanced at his feet, then set a hand on Phil’s shoulder, making him stop.

 

“Are you okay?” Dan whispered.

 

Phil stared into his eyes, his irises flicking back and forth, then he shrugged. “I think so,” he murmured.

 

Dan felt a pang somewhere in his gut. He clenched his jaw, then, before thinking better of it, pulled Phil into his arms. The boy went limply, his head falling onto Dan’s shoulder, arms hanging loosely at his side. Dan squeezed his grip gently, holding the hug for a moment longer than was probably appropriate, then stepped back.

 

“That’s okay,” he said. Phil smiled at him, a smile of gratitude and still, a small grain of sadness.

 

Dan patted his shoulder again, unsure of how else to act, and began to walk again. He left his hands hanging at his side, in case Phil chose to take one of them in his own.

 

They got there just as the bus was arriving, and the bus driver gave them a sideways look as they mounted the stairs and moved towards the back. Dan took the window seat and pulled his phone and headphones out of his pocket, offering an earbud to Phil, who took it and dropped his head onto Dan’s shoulder. Dan raised an eyebrow but did not question it, thinking that he probably would have to get used to Phil using him as a pillow.

 

Dan waved to Phil as they parted for their first classes, the first acknowledgement he’d really ever made within the walls of their school, and Phil smiled warmly, bright enough to light up the corridors. Dan shook his head as he turned away; he was in over his head with this boy.

 

However, Dan’s good despite confused mood was spoiled by third period. His history teacher, Mrs. Wojcicki, was in a foul mood before she even entered the classroom, and thanks to her bad hearing and the douchebags sitting behind Dan, she’d become convinced that he was making rude, crude, and most especially lewd comments from the start of the class, which combined with his protesting and insistence that he had in fact been asleep for the majority of the class – though this defense didn't seem to particularly help him –, she gave him a hall pass and told him to go see the headmaster. Dan ground his teeth together as he shoved back his chair and shot a glare at the boys behind him before grabbing his bag and things and shoving his way out of the classroom.

 

“Fuck history,” Dan mumbled to himself. He intentionally went the opposite direction of the headmaster’s office in order to stop by his locker and drop off his contraband lighter and cigarette packs; he had halted in front of his locker and began to enter his combination when he heard a faint gasp. Dan paused, then quickly opened the locker and shoved the lighter and cigarette pack, both concealed inside a pencil bag, into the locker before shutting it quietly.

 

“What a girl!” he heard a deep voice laugh. Dan stepped closer to the voice, which was around the corner from him.

 

“Where’s your lacy panties, huh?” a second voice now. Dan scowled. He may have not been the nicest of guys in the school, but even he flat out disapproved of catcalling girls.

 

“Did you leave them at home for your boyfriend to wear?” the first boy said. “Or is it your time of the month?”

 

“‘Fraid to tell you this, boys, but I’ve not got the biology for that,” a quiet voice answered.

 

Dan froze as the boys around the corner, the attackers, laughed. That was not the voice of a girl. That was most definitely not the voice of a girl.


	5. part five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A boy with a broken heart, who never learned to confess his thoughts to anyone but the moon, meets sunshine in the form of a boy in pastel pink shoes. In dreary England, all light is pale and fleeting, but the sun shines from his smile and his eyes, and the boy's broken heart is mended, put back together with glitter glue. In the end, the one winning in the situation will of course be Mrs. Howell, who shipped it before they even met.

* * *

 

_**part five** _

 

 

“You’ve certainly got the brain for it!” said a third voice. “Or do you just wish you had the biology?”

 

“Just let me go,” said Phil, his voice thick with what Dan guessed was a bloody mouth. “I won’t tell on you, I swear.”

 

“Let you go?” laughed one of his attackers. “But I didn’t even get a solid punch in; hold him still, lads.”

 

Dan surged forward, running around the corner to be faced with two boys holding Phil by the arms and a third drawing his fist back for a punch.

 

“Hey!” Dan shouted.

 

The three boys looked up; Dan recognized them all as members of the gang Carter had been part of during his time at their school. He recalled that none of them had ever been very bright, and the boy about to punch Phil, Tom he thought he was called, had managed to really piss Carter off on more than one occasion.

 

“‘Sup, Howell,” Tom said, dropping his fist. “You want a piece of this?”

 

Dan strode forward and grabbed Phil by the arm, jerking him out of the grip of the other two. “Fuck off, the lot of you,” he barked. “This kid’s off limits.”

 

Tom’s expression soured, as if someone had thrown a rather fresh sample of dog dung onto his designer shoes. “Says who?” he demanded.

 

“Says me!” Dan shot back. “Or do you want me to beat you up myself? I can call in alumni.”

 

Tom’s face slackened slightly. Alumni, in the case of the school’s local gang, meant the graduated members who had not only graduated from school, but to a real street gang with legitimate criminal enterprises. Dan wasn’t bluffing and Tom knew it; he had witnessed both Carter and Dan call in alumni the year before, at one point leaving half the football team in hospital for up to three days and the other half too scared to even say anything. However, the other two boys seemed less attuned to Dan’s seriousness, possibly not knowing the true gravity of what ‘alumni’ meant.

 

“You fuck off, Howell,” said the bulkier of the two. “This has nothing to do with you.”

 

Dan took a step closer, raising his hands and expertly cracking his knuckles. Despite both boy’s bulk, he was still taller than the both of them, and in his current state of extremely pissed off, his glare managed to make the both back up.

 

“Lester is off limits,” he said slowly, enunciating every word. “If I see any of you near him again with the intentions of anything other than to wish him a good afternoon or to borrow a pencil, you will regret it.”

 

“Let’s get out of here,” Tom said, grabbing one of their arms. “Howell can have his boy toy.”

 

The two boys looked between Tom and Dan, then turned to follow Tom away. Dan watched them back off, slinking to the cafeteria the floor below, until they vanished into the stairway. He turned around, a scowl still set on his face, to see Phil standing behind him, cradling his left arm and looking pale. His lip was bleeding a little, trickling down his chin.

 

“How did you do that?” Phil whispered.

 

“Helps to be influential in certain circles,” Dan muttered, which only made Phil paler. The whiteness of his skin next to the dark red blood was disturbing, almost.

 

“Certain circles?” Phil mumbled. “You’re what… a gang member?”

 

“Come on,” Dan said gruffly, grabbing Phil’s arm and tugging him forward. “We’re not talking here.”

 

Dan hadn’t forgotten about his visit to the Headmaster’s office, but he owed Phil an explanation; he’d just have to make it quick. He dragged Phil into the nearest bathroom, away from classrooms and ears that were pricked for the sound of conspiracy but apparently not abuse, and turned back to face him.

 

“What just happened, Dan?” Phil said immediately. “What does alumni mean? What do you mean by certain circles?”

 

“Alumni is essentially code for graduated or expelled students who’ve joined a real gang, 22nd Street Syndicate in this case,” Dan said quickly, “I personally know four, and three through mutual friends.”

 

“But you’re… I mean, I knew there were students here who had gang ties, but –”

 

Dan cut Phil off. “There is a mini gang of sorts in the school, yeah, and those involved typically end up in 22nd Street if not somewhere else. Those three guys are all involved; practically just thugs, with no privileges or benefits other than an ego boost and a reputation to flash around. I’m…” Dan paused, unsure of how to phrase his next words, “higher up, I guess, because I know people and I’m smart, which means I can ask favors from people and give out favors.”

 

“Like declaring me off limits?” Phil murmured.

 

Dan nodded. “None of them will bother you once word gets around; they all hate and fear me because of the people I know.”

 

“Who do you know?” Phil asked.

 

Dan hesitated. “I’m not going to end up in 22nd Street, Phil, I promise,” he said.

 

“I wasn’t going to ask that,” Phil replied in a sharp voice.

 

Dan took a breath. Phil seemed more worried than anything else, but this made Dan worry. With the wide-eyed gaze Phil gave him, he didn’t know if he was afraid for him, or of him. “I know four alumni personally, but one of them is in the top tiers of 22nd Street. He… He and I have a complicated history, but he’d do whatever I ask.”

 

“Carter Jones?” Phil whispered.

 

Dan chewed on his lip piercing. “Yeah. He joined up with 22nd street before he graduated, back when we were still together; he managed to get himself close to the leader, he never told me how, I never asked. But the point is I’ve told them to leave you alone, you’re… you're under my protection now, I guess.”

 

“What does that mean?” Phil snapped; he turned away, his face confused and worried. “Am I now expected to join? Do I have to do something for your… your gang?”

 

“No! It’s not my gang! It’s not even a real gang!” Dan said quickly, then he sighed and pushed a hand through his hair, trying to think of a way to explain this without making him look like a budding criminal. “Look, you don’t owe me anything.”

 

“But you saved me from a beating, and now you’re telling me that no – no _thugs_ are going to try it again! That sounds an awful lot like something a gang member would consider a debt, Dan.”

 

“Consider it a favor,” Dan shot. “Payback for… For pranking my mum with me or something.” He paused, then added: “My version of a free hug.”

 

Phil looked at him with a guarded expression. “You told me there was no such thing as a free hug,” he murmured.

 

Dan’s lips fell into a frown. “I did, didn’t I?” he muttered.

 

“Dan, what does this mean, exactly?”

 

Dan tried to think. He didn’t know how to answer his friend. There was a quiet a moment, neither of them speaking. Dan glanced between Phil’s split lip and the sinks, then grabbed a paper towel and stuck it under a faucet. The motion sensor flashed and water automatically poured out of the tap, getting the paper in his hand wet. He stepped towards Phil, holding it up to touch it to his lip, but Phil took a step away from him. Dan slowly lowered the towel. He clenched his jaw and balled up the damp paper in his hand. There was silence but for the water dripping on the tiles. Dan chucked it in a bin and stepped past Phil. “You’re not going to get bullied, or picked on, no one’s going to try and trip you in the hall. You can do whatever the fuck you want. I’ll make sure no one bothers you.” He pushed open the bathroom door and left. He had to go see the headmaster.

 

Dan didn’t take the bus home. He walked, despite the biting wind, because he didn’t want to see the disappointed look on Phil’s face again. He didn’t want to have to meet his eyes and see fear in them. The forty minutes by bus turned into an hour and a half by foot, and by the time Dan unlocked his front door he was shivering. Once he got inside and locked himself in his room, he realized that the sharp cold on his cheeks hadn’t just been the wind; tears had slipped from his eyes.

 

Dan hastily brushed them away, sinking onto his bed. He inhaled a deep breath, glancing around his room for something to occupy his mind. His gaze caught something pale, something out of place in his darkened and violently posed bedroom, and he turned to pick it up. It was Phil’s flower crown; little bluebells and daisies made of fabric, twisted together with a green wire branch. He’d have to give it to him later, in the morning probably. Or to his mother to give to Phil, since it appeared Phil didn’t want to see him. Dan lay back on the bed, sinking into the memory foam, and stared up at the ceiling. He exhaled forcefully. He really regretted ever getting sucked into this world, this world of dickbags and thugs looking for weaklings to steal lunch money from and wishing they were cool like the gang members they saw get arrested on TV. If he could go back and do it over…

 

But then he wouldn’t have been able to rescue Phil. He wouldn’t have been able to ensure he was left alone. Even if it meant Phil was afraid of him, it was worth it. He didn’t want to see Phil like that ever again, beaten and forced to the ground. It would be worth it.

 

Dan’s phone rang, the generic buzz of an unknown number. He sat up, pulling it from his pocket, and saw the number was local, likely one of the archaic telephone boxes still littering the city or even more likely a phone from the school. He swiped to answer it, since it was probably his mum telling him her phone was dead, and raised it to his ear.

 

“Hello?” he said.

 

“Hey, Danny.”

 

Dan froze. He inhaled a shaky breath, swallowed, then said: “What do you need, Carter?”

 

“I heard you threatened to call your ex over some kid getting picked on, a girly boy,” drawled Carter in his lazy, half-drunk voice.

 

Dan resisted the urge to snap at him for calling Phil a ‘girly boy.’ “I threatened to call in alumni, not specifically you.”

 

“Who was the kid?”

 

“Who told you?” Dan shot back.

 

“Careful, Danny,” Carter chuckled, but not in amusement. “If you want to keep your status as top dog, you’ve got to throw me a few bones.”

 

Dan worked his jaw, trying to think of how to respond. “It was just a kid. Guy in my year.”

 

“Is he cute?”

 

“That’s not the point.”

 

“Come on, Danny, that’s always the point! I wanna know who the one that got away is chasing after.”

 

“I’m not chasing after anyone,” Dan muttered.

 

“What? Danny, you know I can’t hear you when you whisper.”

 

“I’m not chasing after anyone,” Dan repeated, more loudly. “The guy is my mum’s teaching assistant, I was doing my mum a favor, that’s all.”

 

“Oh, so your mum asked you?” Carter gave a short laugh. “You always were a momma’s boy.”

 

“Carter, what do you want?” Dan said snappishly.

 

“Hey, chill baby,” Carter said; Dan gritted his teeth. “I just wanted to know who the kid is you’ve declared off limits, ‘cause you know that that only works while you’re top of the game.”

 

“You want to know what I’ll do to stay that way, right?” Dan said.

 

“Well, maybe.”

 

Dan clenched his jaw, waiting for Carter to speak again. When he did, it was in a softer tone.

 

“Whoever this kid is, you’re not just doing your mum a favor. Bobby’s little brother tells me you two’ve been all chummy on the bus, that this guy spent the night over at your house last night.”

 

“We live in the same neighborhood,” Dan said. He hoped Carter would fall for it. There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line, in which Dan heard cars go past.

 

“The kid’s name, it’s Phil, right? Phil Letcher?”

 

“Lester,” Dan corrected before he could think better of it.

 

“Hmph. Didn’t think you’d fall for a twink, Danny.”

 

“Carter, unless you need me to do something for you, I’ve got homework.”

 

“What’s homework to you; you’re graduating soon, aren’t you?”

 

Dan hesitated. “I’m graduating from school, yeah.”

 

“Am I going to see you when you leave?”

 

“No.” Dan did not hesitate there. “I’ll be going to university. I’ve got bigger plans.”

 

Carter laughed. “I’m offended, Danny! What’s bigger than helping out an old boyfriend from time to time?”

 

“What about when that old boyfriend is risking doing serious time?” Dan said. “I know you’ve already done six months for illegal possession of a weapon or drugs, Carter, hell, I thought you were still in lockup, 's the only reason I figured it'd be fine to answer an unknown number.” He heard Carter begin to protest, but quickly cut him off, “I appreciate what you’ve done for me, but once I’m out of school, I’m not throwing you any more bones. Ever.”

 

Carter was quiet for a second. Dan heard a clink of something suspiciously like glass against metal; the neck of a bottle against silver lip piercings.

 

“I respect that, Danny,” Carter said softly. “You never wanted this. I dragged you into it. I get that.”

 

“So why are you calling me?”

 

“Maybe I’m drunk and I miss you,” Carter replied. “Maybe I’m jealous cause you’ve got yourself a new boyfriend. I dunno. I’m pretty sure I’m too hammered to even drive.”

 

Dan glanced at his watch. “Carter, it’s not even five.”

 

“Wild night.” Dan could hear the grin in his voice. “Long and wild.”

 

Dan let out a sigh; he rubbed at his temples with his free hand. “Call yourself a cab or something,” he told him. “Don’t try to drive.”

 

“Can’t, I don’t have a car.”

 

“What happened to your truck?”

 

“Copper took my keys!” Carter laughed. “Or maybe it was that chick…”

 

Dan shook his head. He lowered the phone and pressed the red end call button, then dropped the phone onto his bed. He’d have to change his number once he’d graduated.

 

He half expected the phone to ring again; with Carter mad that Dan had hung up on him so abruptly, but it remained silent. Dan closed his eyes, laying with his legs dangling off the edge of the bed. He needed sleep.

 

“Dan! I’m home!”

 

Dan rose, blinking blearily, at the sound of his mother’s voice. He pushed himself up, his joints popping, and stumbled through the darkened room to his door. He stepped into the living room, stifling a yawn. He found his mother at the foyer table, her phone in her hand and a pair of reading glasses perched on her nose.

 

“You don’t look so good, sweetie,” his mother said.

 

“‘M’fine,” Dan mumbled. “I was asleep.”

 

“Oh. Well, how was school? I don’t suppose Phil is going to jump up from behind a counter, is he?”

 

Dan shook his head. “Not unless you know something I don’t.”

 

His mother tilted her head at him, her manicured brows furrowed. “Did something happen between you too?”

 

Dan shrugged. “It’s nothing.”

 

His mother’s frown deepened as she gazed at him over the top of her glasses. “Phil didn’t do something, did he? I mean, he seems nice, but many people seem nice – are you alright, sweetheart?”

 

“I’m fine,” Dan insisted. “Phil didn’t do anything, it…” he paused, then shook his head. “I just fucked up. Pretty badly, I think.”

 

Dan’s mother dropped her phone and keys onto the foyer table, then opened her arms towards him. Dan shook his head, going to turn away, but she took his arms and pulled him into a hug. Dan, feeling a little awkward, dropped his forehead onto her shoulder; with difficulty, she was much shorter than him.

 

“You’ll work it out,” she murmured. “It’ll turn out alright.”

 

Dan nodded vaguely. He pulled away, turning to return to his room. “I’m fine, really,” he said over his shoulder. He closed the door behind him.

 

His phone had illuminated just before he entered the room, and the screen blanked as he closed the door. Dan crossed the room and picked it up; he had three notifications from Snapchat and a text from his mother that he hadn’t noticed. He ignored the text and opened Snapchat.

 

The first notification was that someone had added him: _AmazingPhil._

 

Dan blinked. He looked up. Then down. “What the fuck. What the actual fuck.”

 

The second and third notifications were Snaps sent to him by AmazingPhil. Dan dropped the phone onto his bed and pushed both hands through his hair. “I DON’T FUCKING UNDERSTAND THIS BOY.”

 

Dan’s mum pushed open his bedroom door seconds later. “Dan? What’s wrong?”

 

Dan shook his head, his face completely baffled. “One minute it seems like he doesn’t want to be around me, the next he’s almost flirting; now, I know I fucked up bad, and he’s Snapchatting me?!”

 

Dan’s mother stared at him a second, then slowly, she backed up and pulled the door closed. Dan glared at the now shut door. “Oh, real helpful there, Mum! I thought you were supposed to be good with boy trouble!”

 

“I divorced the only man I ever had!” his mother called back. “I am in no way an expert on men!”

 

Dan groaned, falling back onto the bed. He stared at the ceiling a moment, then picked up the phone. He opened the first Snap from Phil. It was a simple picture of a green and blue patterned bedspread, but the caption on it said something deeper.

 

_“I’m sorry.”_

 

Dan stared until the picture vanished. He hesitated, then opened the second. It was another picture of the bedspread, this time reading: _“Thank you.”_

 

Dan’s hands trembled slightly. He took a moment to think, then replied to it. He took a picture of his own bedspread, thrown back and rumpled from a night covering two bodies, and captioned it with: _“Why the fuck are you sorry.”_

 

It took a minute, but his phone buzzed. Dan snatched it up instantly, to find another captioned photo of Phil’s bedspread. _“u did something kind for me &I got angry at u.”_

 

Dan narrowed his eyes in disbelief. How did this boy even exist?

 

He sent his reply: _“Why the fuck wouldnt you get mad?”_

 

Next: _“You did something kind!”_

 

_“I am a dickbag phil face it.”_

 

Dan dropped his phone. He could not understand what the hell was happening. His phone buzzed again.

 

_“You’re too nice and cute to be a dickbag.”_

 

Dan gaped. “I FUCKING GIVE UP!”

 

“What now?” his mother called with exasperation in her voice.

 

“I GIVE UP!” Dan yelled. “IF HE IS NOT INTENDING TO BE THIS FLIRTATIOUS THEN I’M MOVING TO AMERICA!”

 

“If you move to America I won’t have anyone to do the dishes!”

 

Dan ignored her; he hit reply and started a video. He stared into the camera a second, a deep-set and confused frown on his face, then said: “Phil, I know you’re not flirting, so quit flirting!” He ended the video and sent it to Phil.

 

He waited anxiously for the reply. It took a moment, then:

 

Another picture of Phil’s bedspread. _“Who says I wasn’t?”_

 

Dan stared disbelievingly. Four words; four short words, now he felt like his entire world had been flipped upside down. He hastily hit reply, taking a quick photo and captioning it: _“wut.”_

 

His phone buzzed a second later. Phil's bedspread, captioned _“Dan, I'm serious”_

 

Dan sent him another video. “Phil I'm fucking confused.”

 

It took a moment, but the next notification was a video. Dan opened it, to see the image panning from the bedspread to a wall, the whole thing covered in random drawings, quotes, and a large flag in the center; a rainbow flag.

 

The image cut to Phil's face, his gaze averted from the camera. “I am flirting with you, Dan.”

 

The video ended but Dan didn't notice. He blinked; once, twice, a third time. He did not believe this. This was not happening, it was too fucking good to be true.

 

“Mum!” Dan screamed.

 

“What _now_ , Daniel?”

 

His mother pushed open the door, her eyebrows raised in exasperation.

 

“Am I awake?” he whispered.

 

“Dan, his house is seven blocks from us, the bright blue two-story with a fenced yard.”

 

“What?”

 

His mother stepped into the room and grabbed his jacket and keys off the desk. “Seven blocks going towards town, bright blue two-story, fenced in front yard, probably with a lot of toys.” She pushed both the keys and jacket into his arms, then grabbed the flower crown off the bed and put it in his open palm. “Go.”

 

“What?” Dan spluttered again. His mother sighed in further exasperation and grabbed his arms. She pulled him to his feet, dragged him from the room and to the stairs.

 

“Do I have to repeat myself?” she asked him. “Or did the directions get through your thick skull?”

 

“I got them, but.... What?”

 

She gave him a little push, and he stumbled to the stairs, then down them. He looked up at his mum, and she waved her hands. “Go!”

 

Dan opened the door, unknowing and unsure of his own actions. He stepped off the porch, looking around with bewildered eyes. Toward town, his mother had said. He turned right and started walking. Seven blocks.

 

It only took a few minutes, but felt like hours. He halted in front of a bright blue house, a fenced-in yard with children's toys covering the grass. A colored glass wind chime hung from the porch, giving soft pings of music in the light breeze. Dan looked down at his hands, at the flower crown clenched in his left hand and the phone and keys in his right, the jacket draped over his arm. He realized that he was shivering, so he quickly swung the jacket over his shoulders and pushed his arms through the sleeves. Dan took a step forward, then unlatched the gate and moved into the yard. The front door of the house was open, but a glass storm door was closed in front of it.

 

Dan swallowed, then quickly stepped up to the door and rapped his knuckles against the glass. He took a shaky breath.

 

A little girl in a white dress patterned with sunflowers ran up to the door. She stared at him suspiciously for a moment, then cautiously opened the storm door

 

“Who are you?” she asked.

 

“I'm looking for Phil,” Dan said in lieu of his name.

 

“That's my big brother,” she said. “But who are you?”

 

“Dan,” he said.

 

The girl nodded, her blonde pigtails bouncing, then let the door shut and ran back down the corridor, disappearing down a separate hall. Dan inhaled, his breath trembling, and tried to settle his nerves.

 

The little girl reappeared, pulling on an arm. The arm lengthened to a shoulder, then to Phil's confused face. The girl dragged him to the door and pointed to Dan. Phil's gaze lifted to meet Dan's and he blushed.

 

Phil opened the door. “Hey,” he said, giving Dan a nervous smile. “Erm, come inside.”

 

Dan didn't trust himself to speak, so he just nodded. The little girl darted out of sight and Phil pushed the door open enough for Dan to slip through the narrow doorway. Phil released the door and turned to face him. The hallway was just as narrow as the doorway; there were inches between them. Dan's first instinct was to step closer; he wanted to trace a finger down Phil's jaw, feel his skin and the blood rush to his cheeks beneath his fingers. His second instinct was to step aside, because it wouldn’t be appropriate for him to move closer to Phil. But his third thought was of the video Phil sent.

 

Dan took that step closer. Phil's eyelids fluttered, his Adam's apple bobbed in his throat. Dan raised a hand and gently drew his finger from Phil's ear to his chin. They were so close, Dan could see Phil’s hastening breath rise and fall in his chest. He hooked his finger under Phil's chin, his thumb brushing over Phil's lower lip.

 

“I really want to kiss you,” Dan murmured.

 

Phil nodded quickly, then his gaze flicked over Dan's shoulder and he flushed. “Annie, go upstairs!”

 

Dan looked back and caught Phil's little sister running up the stairs, the dirt stained bottoms of her bare feet whipping around a corner and out of sight. He looked back to Phil and smiled a little awkwardly. Phil shook his head, a similar smile upon his lips, and took Dan's hand. He pulled him from the door down the hall. They turned into a stairway leading to the basement, and Phil led him down. They entered a room that was half sitting room half bedroom, with white walls covered in drawings and a green and blue covered bed. Phil looked back to Dan, his bottom lip trapped between his teeth.

 

Had Phil not admitted that he had been flirting the entire time, Dan would have had to look away with a foggy brain and quickening heart. But Phil had.

 

Dan dropped whatever he was holding onto the sofa and slipped his hands into Phil's, then swiftly pulled him to his chest. He leaned in and carefully touched his lips to his cheek. Phil released his hands to touch his chest, then slid upward to lock behind Dan's neck. Dan’s arms slipped around his waist, then he touched his forehead to Phil's and inhaled the scent of him, his eyelids falling shut.

 

Soft lips pressed against his. Gentle movement, his pulse racing in his ears. Dan felt Phil's hand move back to his chest, sliding over his front to his waist; Dan pushed one hand into Phil's hair and the other he left at Phil's waist, a need to bring him even closer growing desperately in him. He didn’t even realize his feet had been moving, but his knees were pressed up against something and Phil was pushing him down onto it, their kiss becoming deeper with every gasping breath they took. Phil straddled his lap and dragged his mouth from Dan’s lips to his jaw, then kissed his pulse with parted lips. Dan let his hand drift from Phil’s waist to his back, then down and he grabbed Phil’s ass, which made the boy moan softly in the back of his throat. Phil began to suck on Dan’s neck; Dan let out a quiet murmur, barely intelligible.

 

“Call me ‘princess,’” Phil whispered in his ear, then nipped at Dan’s earlobe.

 

“Whu – what?” mumbled Dan, his brain fogged over by Phil’s lips on his skin.

 

“Princess,” Phil repeated. “Call me ‘princess.’”

 

“Yeah, sure,” Dan murmured. “Princess…”

 

Phil immediately shivered in Dan’s arms; Dan felt Phil’s already budding erection become instantly hard. Dan smirked a little, then squeezed Phil’s ass again. “Keep doing that, princess.”

 

Phil gave another soft moan; he ran his hands up Dan’s back under his shirt, then around to his chest, his lips dripping open-mouthed kisses over his neck. Dan pulled his arms away to tug off his jacket, then Phil instantly pulled his shirt up and over Dan’s head and returned to kissing his neck, now drifting down towards his shoulder and collarbone.

 

“Kiss me, princess,” Dan whispered. Phil lifted his mouth from his neck and pressed his lips against Dan’s; Dan pushed his lips open with his tongue and Phil trembled again. Dan felt Phil’s fingers at his ribs, warm against his already flushed flesh.

 

“Phil! Dear, did you take the trash out?”

 

The two boys immediately pulled back, Phil jumping up, bright red blushes filling their cheeks. Phil cleared his throat, obviously trying to sound more collected than he clearly was.

 

“Erm, no, not yet!” Phil called.

 

“Oh, Annie just told me your friend came over; do you two need anything?”

 

“No, we’re good, thanks Mum,” said Phil, glancing at Dan.

 

“Alright, well, don’t forget the trash!”

 

“Yes, Mum!”

 

Phil looked back to Dan, embarrassment deep in his eyes. “Sorry,” he muttered.

 

“It’s fine, princess,” Dan said, resettling himself on what he realized was Phil’s bed. Phil visibly shivered again, and Dan smiled.

 

“Who knew my mocking you turned into a kink?” he said in a laughing murmur.

 

“Shut up,” Phil mumbled.

 

“What are you going to call me, then?” Dan asked, quirking an eyebrow.

 

Phil shrugged. “I hadn’t ever thought that far.”

 

Dan held his arms out. “Come back, princess,” he said; Phil immediately stepped back and set himself on Dan’s lap again, this time only sitting rather than straddling him. He dropped his head onto Dan’s shoulder and locked his arms around Dan’s neck. Dan pressed his lips to Phil’s forehead, but he was still quite aroused; his hands slipped down Phil’s waist and past his butt to his legs. Dan lifted a hand to cup Phil’s face, then he pressed his lips against his.

 

Phil shifted in his lap to face him better, and Dan moved his hand from his cheek to the top of Phil’s leg, then drifted in towards the front of his stiff jeans. Phil let out a little gasp, and Dan quickly pulled his hand. “Sorry,” Dan muttered, but Phil shook his head. He took his hand and moved it back to the top of his leg. Dan shifted his hand slowly inwards, until it was just an inch from the clasp and zipper of his jeans. “You sure?” he whispered against Phil’s lips. Phil nodded.

 

Dan pushed a hand under Phil’s butt and lifted him off his lap, transferring him to the bed. Dan then set his hand on the front of his jeans. Phil bucked up against his hand, and Dan smiled as he kissed his lips quickly. “Tell me if you want to stop,” Dan said softly. Phil nodded again. Dan pushed his hand under the front of Phil’s shirt, caressing the skin of his stomach, then back down to the clasp of his jeans.

 

“You ready, princess?”

 

“Yes,” Phil all but whimpered. Dan undid his jeans.

 

The sound of Phil’s gasps filled Dan’s mind like a beautiful song; their mixed breath and whispered words filled the gaps between their quiet moans; soft so no one would hear them. Dan kept it to just hands, he remembered Phil admitting to having never had sex before and he didn’t want his first time to be the same day as their first kiss, but the high they both got, Dan knew that would last a long time.

 

Phil pulled him into a cuddle after they were done; he curled up against his side and tucked his head under Dan’s chin. Dan ran his hand up and down Phil’s arm, breathing in deeply the sweet scent of Phil’s shampoo. He wanted to memorize and trap that scent, to keep with him forever.

 

“So…” Dan started. “Are we dating now?”

 

Phil nodded, his eyes shut and a content smile on his face. Dan traced a finger down the side of his face, and Phil opened his eyes to smile up at him.

 

“I am your princess,” Phil murmured; “so ha.”

 

Dan laughed softly. “Yeah, I guess you are. Princess,” he added, a smirk curling his lips.

 

Phil giggled lightly, burying his face in Dan’s chest. “You can’t imagine how much it affected me when you first called me that,” he murmured. “I almost ravaged you right then and there.”

 

Dan laughed for real then. “I had the same dilemma,” he confessed.

 

Phil nuzzled his nose against Dan’s collarbone; his shirt was still discarded. “I really love your tattoo.”

 

Dan blushed a little. “Thank you, princess.”

 

Phil let out a half a giggle, then pecked Dan’s lips. “It’s really sexy,” he murmured.

 

Dan snorted. “In that case, I’ll get another one.”

 

Phil smirked. “How about on your back this time?”

 

Dan raised an eyebrow. “What, like a tramp stamp?”

 

He nodded. “Yeah. And I could call you that.”

 

“Tramp stamp?” Dan laughed.

 

Phil gently smacked his shoulder. “No! Tramp, you brat.”

 

Dan smirked and kissed his nose. “Sounds like you’ve already got a nickname for me in there, princess.”

 

Phil blushed but stuck his nose in the air haughtily. “Brat is not something I’m going to whisper in your ear when I’m horny.”

 

Dan quirked a curious eyebrow. “Oh, so you’re whispering in my ear when you’re horny, now? I like this plan, princess.”

 

“Shush, brat.”

 

“The only way to get me to shut up, princess,” Dan murmured, “is to occupy my mouth with something.”

 

Phil’s expression became slightly mortified and very amused. “Is that so?”

 

“Yep. Cause you see, I’m obnoxiously gay,” Dan explained. “I like to run my mouth until it hits something.”

 

Phil pressed his lips against Dan’s; his tongue swept over Dan’s lip ring and Dan chuckled lightly. Phil pulled back and nodded. “I agree, that is the only way to shut you up.”

 

“Well, sort of; a cock would do just as well as a tongue.”

 

Phil’s already pink cheeks became rosier; Dan grinned and pressed his hips against Phil’s. “I suppose I am a tramp as well as a brat,” he murmured.

 

“Too right,” Phil muttered, but he kissed him again anyway.

 

“Phil? The trash!”

 

Phil pulled back with a quiet groan of frustration. “Coming, Mum!” he shouted towards the stairs, then gave Dan an apologetic look. “Sorry.”

 

“We couldn’t stay here forever, anyway,” Dan said. “It’s fine.”

 

Phil sat up, slipping from Dan’s embrace. Dan pushed himself up onto his elbows as Phil scooted to the edge of the bed and stood, raising his arms above his head in a stretch and exposing a strip of flesh just above his jeans. Dan pushed himself closer and set his hands on Phil’s exposed flesh, then pressed a kiss to the small of his back. He felt Phil shiver beneath his lips, and drifted his hands down his hips. “Do you have anywhere to be Friday night?” Dan said, his lips still pressed against Phil’s skin, causing the boy to shiver once again.

 

“No,” Phil answered, his voice hushed and hasty.

 

“How about I take you out, princess? Proper date.” Dan looked up; he couldn’t see Phil’s face from his position, but he saw Phil nod, so he smiled and dropped another kiss onto the small of his back, gently and deliberately dragging his lips down to the hem of his jeans. “Good.” He let go, rising to his feet, and put his arms around Phil’s waist from the front. He gave him a soft kiss to his lips, but it was cut short by the sound of Phil’s mother reminding him of the trash that needed to be emptied.

 

Phil nodded, slipping away from Dan, and started towards the stairs. Dan grabbed his shirt off the floor and pulled it on quickly, then came up behind him and took his hand. Phil shot him a smile over his shoulder.

 

“I’m getting it now, Mum,” Phil called as they exited the basement. A woman with bobbed blonde hair stepped out of another doorway, wiping her hands on a dish-towel.

 

“Hello,” she said to Dan with a pleasant smile. She tossed the towel over her shoulder and stepped forward, holding out her hand to Dan. “I’m Phil’s mother; it’s nice to meet you.”

 

Dan had a sudden attack of anxiety; his hands weren’t exactly clean at the moment, and more than likely, they still had a faint odor of cum about them. Then he remembered that Phil had given him a wipe when they’d finished, and he felt better about shaking his mother’s hand. “I’m Dan.”

 

“He’s my boyfriend,” Phil said to his mother; Dan blushed a little but smiled. Mrs. Lester’s face brightened.

 

“Oh, how lovely!” she said. “It’s so very nice to meet you, Dan.”

 

Dan nodded. “Likewise,” he added.

 

“I feel bad for making you take the trash out now, Phil,” Mrs. Lester said, raising a hand to her cheek; fortunately not the hand Dan shook, in case his hands still retained the remnants of what they’d been doing in the basement.

 

“It’s fine, Mum,” Phil said with a quick shake of his head. He glanced at Dan, then at his mum. “Erm, do you want to stay or go back to your house?”

 

“Whichever,” Dan told him with a shrug.

 

“Mum, do you mind if I go back over to Dan’s house after I take out the trashes?”

 

“No, that’s fine,” she said. “Would you be, erm, staying the night again or…”

 

“I dunno yet, Mum,” Phil replied, not meeting either her or Dan’s gazes. “I’m just gonna go get the trash,” he finished in a mumble. Dan watched him slip past Mrs. Lester into the kitchen, then pushed his hands into his pockets and looked down at his feet awkwardly.

 

“Would you like to sit down, Dan?” offered Mrs. Lester. She stepped past him and gestured to a sitting room to his right. Dan glanced between the kitchen door and the sitting room, then shrugged and followed Phil’s mother into the other room. He took a seat on a floral sofa and gave her a quick smile. She perched herself on the edge of an armchair and gave him a much wider smile.

 

“Phil’s been talking about you for ages,” she said in a conspiratorial voice. “He honestly wouldn’t shut up about you.”

 

Dan blushed but chuckled a little. “Has he?” he replied.

 

“Oh, yes! It’s been Dan this and Dan said that ever since he met you!” Mrs. Lester gave a little chuckle. “I about ready to tell him to move on with it and ask you out already, but here you are.” She continued to smile fondly at him, and Dan, being the awkward little fucker he was, moved his gaze to look around the room. There was a blue bin filled with toys in a corner, a bookcase full of puzzles and games by the window, and a second large bin by the television, this one clear and filled with legos.

 

“How many siblings does Phil have?” Dan asked Mrs. Lester, glancing back at her.

 

“Oh, five,” Mrs. Lester answered; Dan raised his eyebrows. “I had Phil and his older brother, then my husband had two already when we married, then I had Annie and Tadpole after that. Phil’s father died about eleven years ago, you see,” she explained.

 

“Oh,” Dan said, “I didn’t realize. I’m sorry.”

 

“You’re fine, dear,” said Mrs. Lester, or rather Mrs. something else, since she was remarried. “I didn’t expect you to know; Phil loves George, and he only barely remembers his father. George is my husband, Phil’s stepfather.”

 

“Ah,” Dan said, having nothing else to say.

 

“So, you live nearby, right?” asked Phil’s mother.

 

“Yeah, seven blocks that way,” Dan answered as he gestured away from town.

 

“Oh, nice. Are you and Phil in the same classes?”

 

“Erm, no, we have different classes, but we both help one of the year one teachers after class sometimes,” he admitted.

 

“Yes, Phil’s told me, that’s your mother’s class, yes?”

 

“Yeah,” Dan answered.

 

“Phil really enjoys helping that class,” she said, giving a proud mother smile. “The children are all so sweet.”

 

“Erm, yeah, I guess,” Dan mumbled. “I’m not as good with kids as Phil is.”

 

“Oh, that’s alright, not everyone is. Phil’s had lots of practice with Annie and Tadpole and Timmy,” said Phil’s mum.

 

“How old are they, then?” Dan asked.

 

“Timmy is twelve now, but when George and I first married he was very young and Phil had to help a lot with him. Annie is eight, she was born just over a year after George and I married. Then Tadpole; I’m sorry, Tadpole’s full name is Theodore Paul, but we all call him Tadpole; he’s almost six.”

 

“Oh, cool.”

 

“Mhmm,” Phil’s mother said, just as Phil appeared in the doorway carrying two white garbage bags.

 

“I’ll be done in just a minute, Dan,” Phil said.

 

“Okay,” Dan replied. Phil’s mother turned in her chair and gave Phil a smile, watching him exit through the front door.

 

“He’s a very good boy,” she murmured, more to herself than Dan. She turned back, still smiling, and leaned back in her chair. “He’s always been a good boy.”

 

Dan nodded, not knowing how to respond to that. Phil's mother nodded slowly, her motherly smile still gracing her face. Then the front door opened and Phil reappeared; Dan pushed himself to his feet and smiled a little awkwardly at Phil.

 

“We’re going to go now, Mum,” Phil said as he stepped into the room. “I’ve just got to grab something from my room.”

 

“Oh, alright dear, be safe,” Phil’s mother replied. “Have a good time, and tell me if you’re going to be staying the night there before eleven, please; I’d rather you not be walking home after that.”

 

“I’d walk him home,” Dan said immediately.

 

“Oh, you’re such a sweetheart, but I wouldn’t want you walking home after eleven either!” Phil’s mother patted his arm, then stood from her chair. “I’ll just go back to washing the dishes; you two boys have a good time.”

 

Phil gave his mother a quick hug as she stepped past him, then held out his hand to Dan with a bright smile. Dan rolled his eyes but took it anyway. Phil pulled him back to the basement, then dropped his hand to find whatever it was he needed.

 

Dan picked up his keys and phone from the sofa, then spotted the flower crown that he’d brought with him. He picked it up, then turned to Phil. His boyfriend – Dan felt a little giddy getting to use that word in reference to Phil – was sitting on the edge of his bed, checking something on his phone. Dan stepped over to him and slipped a finger beneath his chin, tilting it upward. Phil smiled at him, then Dan gently placed the flower crown on top of his jet black hair.

 

“There,” he murmured. “My princess has his crown.”

 

Phil giggled, putting a hand over his mouth. “You’re ridiculous,” he whispered.

 

Dan grinned at him and dropped a kiss onto the tip of his nose. “Yeah, yeah,” he said in a murmur. “You can’t get over it.”

 

Phil stuck his tongue out at him and rose from the bed. He pushed his phone into his pocket and grabbed a wallet and set of keys from his desk, then his backpack into which he pushed a fresh set of clothes. “Let’s just go,” he said to Dan. Dan nodded, then lifted his jacket from the floor and shrugged it on.

 

“It’s chilly,” Dan told him. “You should get a coat.”

 

Phil stepped to a wardrobe in the corner and pulled a fluffy yellow cardigan from it. Dan snorted; Phil rolled his eyes and shrugged it on. They left his basement bedroom for the upper floor. “Bye, Mum!” Phil called as they approached the front door.

 

“Bye, Phil! Bye, Dan!”

 

Phil reached for the door handle and was about to open it when a sunshine yellow rocket collided with his hip. “Oh! Annie, what has Mum told you about running into people?” Phil reached down and gave what turned out to be his younger sister a hug. Annie, whose arms were locked around Phil’s waist, looked up at Dan with wide eyes, then to Phil.

 

“Where are you going?” she asked them.

 

“Just over to Dan’s house, I’ll be back later,” he assured her.

 

The little girl looked between the two of them again, then: “Is Dan your boyfriend?” Annie asked Phil in a rather loud whisper.

 

Phil laughed softly. “Yeah, he’s my boyfriend.”

 

Annie let go of Phil, then flung her thin arms around Dan, who grunted with the impact. “You be good to my big brother!” she mumbled into his leather jacket.

 

“Erm, I will,” Dan said, looking up at Phil with a _what the hell do I do with this small child_ expression.

 

Annie let go of him, gave a firm nod, then turned and darted back up the stairs. Dan turned to face Phil, an eyebrow raised. Phil shook his head with a soft smile and opened the front door.

 

“Say hi to George and the boys when they get back!” Phil called over his shoulders. “Bye!”

 

“I will, have a good time!”

 

Dan followed Phil through the front door and down the garden path. Phil slipped his arm through Dan’s as Dan opened the gate, then dropped his head onto his shoulder as they began the walk back to Dan’s house.

 

“So…” Dan began. “You’ve got four brothers.”

 

“And a sister.”

 

“How do you get anything done?”

 

“The basement door is very thick, and I have very powerful speakers.”

 

Dan laughed. “So you just blast OneDirection and all that shit to block out the sounds of the several other people in your house?”

 

“Pretty much, yeah.”

 

Dan shook his head, a smile curling his lips, and looked to Phil to see he was smiling back up at him. “If your name is Lester, but your mum remarried, what’s her name?”

 

“Benson,” Phil answered. “Catherine Benson.”

 

Dan nodded. A moment later, he said: “On the subject of mother's, y’know, my mum is going to be extremely smug the minute we walk in the door?”

 

“Probably.”

 

“I apologize in advance,” he added.

 

“Don’t worry about it, it’ll be funny. For a while.”

 

“She is going to be smug for months,” Dan said.

 

Phil let out a sigh. “Probably. But it doesn’t particularly matter.”

 

Dan looked up at the street before them, then down to the pavement beneath their feet and nodded. “I’m glad,” he said, “that she has a reason to be smug.”

 

“Me too,” Phil murmured. “Though, honestly, it took you long enough.”

 

“I thought you were straight!” Dan said defensively.

 

“I literally was leaning on your arm every chance I got.”

 

“I just thought that was cause you’re like that,” Dan said. “Touchy feely and all that.”

 

Phil snorted. “Doesn’t that imply some kind of feelings though?”

 

Dan shrugged. “I’m clueless, okay? Extremely dumb and clueless.”

 

Phil hugged his arm slightly. “That’s fine. I don’t mind clueless.”

 

“You’re supposed to say that I'm not dumb.”

 

“I’d rather not lie to you on our first day as a couple.”

 

Dan laughed, a deep laugh of pure amusement. Phil’s smile was warm and sweet, and this, the emotions currently filling his chest, was just the same warmth and sweetness. He felt happy.

 

Dan unlocked the front door and let Phil walk in before he pulled the door closed. Dan went up the stairs and looked around for his mum, then back down to Phil still standing in the landing, not for the first time. “What?” he said. Phil just smiled.

 

“I’m admiring the view,” he said smugly.

 

Dan felt his cheeks flush; he recalled every other time that Phil had lingered by the door while Dan had gone up the stairs, and he made an effort to roll his eyes. “Admire the view from up here,” he said, waving to him. Phil chuckled and took the stairs more slowly, setting his hand on the railing in an almost dainty manner. Dan took his hand and pulled him into the kitchen, still looking for his mother.

 

“Mum?” Dan called.

 

“My room!”

 

Dan slipped past Phil and into the hallway; he knocked on his mother’s door and pushed it open. His mother was lying on her stomach on her bed, half watching a show on Netflix and half grading papers. She looked up as he opened the door. “What’s up?” she asked.

 

Dan glanced over his shoulder and gestured to Phil. “Mum, let’s just get this out of the way.” Phil stepped into her view and his mother brightened.

 

“Hi, Phil!” she said cheerily. “Have you finished confusing Dan yet?”

 

“I hope not,” Phil replied. “I’d like to be confusing him for a very long time.”

 

Dan’s mother frowned in her own confusion. Dan slipped his arm around Phil’s waist and pressed a quick kiss to his lips, then turned back to his mum. “There, you can say I told you so all you want later.” Then he shut the door firmly, only slightly muffling the sound of his mother’s cackling laughter.

 

Phil met his eye, then tried to stifle a laugh. “That was interesting,” he said.

 

“I told you so!” Dan’s mother shouted through the door.

 

“Shut up, Mum!”

 

His mother continued to cackle as Dan moved into his room, Phil following him. He shut the door and leaned against it. “I swear, she was a hag in another life,” he muttered.

 

“I heard that, Daniel! Remember who gives you food and lets you have boys over for the night!”

 

“Love you too, Mum,” Dan said. He could almost hear her rolling her eyes. He looked back to Phil, who had dropped onto Dan’s bed and was looking as if he was trying very hard not to laugh.

 

“You two have a very interesting relationship,” Phil said.

 

“Shut up,” Dan muttered, his cheeks flushing. Phil laughed, falling backward onto the bed. Dan crossed to the bed and grabbed Phil’s hands, then pinned them with one of his over Phil’s head. “I’ll give you something to laugh about,” he growled and began to tickle him mercilessly. Phil’s laughter became louder and faster; Dan straddled his hips to tickle him better.

 

“I give!” Phil hiccuped. “St-stop!”

 

Dan paused. “What are you giving?” he asked.

 

“I don’t know,” Phil hiccuped again. “Now I’m hiccuping!” He hiccuped once more. Dan laughed and released his arms. He leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest, and smirked triumphantly down at him.

 

“I win,” he declared.

 

“What do you win?” Phil asked, then hiccuped.

 

“A kiss,” he said in the same declarative tone. Phil giggled, then hiccuped. “It might even take care of those hiccups,” he murmured, leaning forward and putting his weight on his elbows, which flanked Phil’s head.

 

“Have – hic – at it,” Phil said. “You did this, fix it.”

 

Dan rolled his eyes, then pressed his lips to Phil’s. Phil hiccuped against his mouth. Dan pulled back a little, then kissed him again, deeper this time, pushing his tongue into his mouth. Phil’s hands slipped into his hair; he still hiccuped again. Dan lifted his lips and leaned on his elbows.

 

“Okay, you fix your own damn hiccups,” he said.

 

“No, come back,” Phil pulled at his neck faintly.

 

“No!” Dan laughed; he pushed himself up and off of Phil, flopping onto the bed beside him. Phil hiccuped, then curled up by his shoulder. Dan pulled his arm out and wrapped it around him, pulling him in a little closer. “What do you want to do?” he murmured.

 

“I don’t really care,” Phil mumbled. “Just lay here.”

 

Dan locked his arms around him; he kissed his temple and settled back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. Phil let his breath out in a slow exhale, sending a tingle through his skin.

 

_“Somebody once told me the world was gonna roll me, I ain’t the sharpest tool in the shed.”_

 

Phil lifted his head to look at Dan. “Really?”

 

Dan looked sheepish; his phone kept ringing: _“She was looking kinda dumb with her finger and her thumb in the shape of an L on her forehead.”_ Dan pulled the phone from his pocket and answered, cutting off the sound of that song from Shrek. “Hey, Peej.”

 

“Dan!”

 

Dan winced at the volume of PJ’s voice, then frowned as he heard shouts of equal volume and violently loud music that sounded suspiciously like rap in the background. “PJ, where are you?”

 

“I’m not exactly sure…”

 

Dan’s frown increased. “Typically, it’s a good idea to know where you are.”

 

“I mean, I know that I’m with Chris and Lou at a party, but I don’t remember where the party is. But you should come!”

 

“PJ, how am I supposed to come if you don’t know where it is to begin with?” Dan glanced at his watch. PJ’s voice was slower than it should have been, looser and the words more jumbled; as if he was slurring his words. “Have you been drinking?”

 

“What?” PJ was shouting again. Dan held the phone farther from his ear.

 

“Where is Chris?” Dan said more loudly. “Go find Chris!”

 

“I think he’s in the bathroom!”

 

“Go get him!”

 

“No! He’s puking!” PJ giggled rather loudly in Dan’s ear. Dan groaned quietly. He hated teenagers sometimes.

 

“Okay, PJ, where do you think the party is?” he asked. “I’m coming to get you.”

 

“I don’t even know,” PJ laughed. “LOUISE! LOU COME SAY HI TO DAN!”

 

Dan dropped the phone at the sudden shout; “Damn it, PJ!” he hissed. He heard someone else speaking, then a rustling by the phone and a girl’s voice.

 

“Louise is going to talk to you now!” PJ said. Dan picked the phone back up as another voice spoke.

 

“Dan?” his friend Louise said in a raised voice.

 

“Louise, why is PJ drunk?” Dan asked.

 

“I think he drank the punch!” Louise called. “I warned him not to drink anything not from a sealed container, but I don’t think he listened.”

 

“Where are you guys?” Dan said, then winced again at the sound of someone screaming a profanity nearby.

 

“A party Chris dragged us to; someone’s house on 23rd street.”

 

Dan sat up quickly and jumped off the bed. “What’s the address, I’m coming to get you.”

 

“Number eight, I think. It’s fine Dan, I was about to make them leave anyway –”

 

“No, do not leave; take PJ and find Chris, then lock yourselves in a bathroom or something.” Dan grabbed his jacket and pulled it on. “Right now.”

 

“Oh, okay,” he heard confusion in Louise’s voice, but acceptance as well. Dan checked his pocket for keys as Phil sat up to look at him.

 

“What’s going on?” Phil asked in a loud whisper.

 

“I’ve got to go get them,” Dan said, covering the phone’s speaker. “Stay here.”

 

“I’m coming,” Phil countered.

 

“No, I don’t want you to be there any more than I want Chris or Louise there!”

 

“I’m coming anyway,” Phil insisted. “You’re not going alone.”

 

Dan hesitated; he didn’t know how to argue with Phil, but then Louise was speaking again. “Erm, Dan, I found Chris, but he’s still throwing up in a bathroom –”

 

“Both you and PJ go into the bathroom and lock the door,” Dan commanded.

 

“It reeks in there!”

 

“Go anyway!” Dan snapped. “You should probably get PJ to throw up too if he drank the punch.”

 

“What? Why?”

 

“Is the door locked?” Dan asked, opening his own door.

 

“Yes, Dan, what’s the matter?”

 

“Get PJ to throw up whatever he drank too,” Dan said. “And quickly.”

 

“Why?”

 

“The punch probably had more than just alcohol in it,” Dan told her.

 

“OH… Oh my… Erm, alright, I’ll try…”

 

“Stay on the phone,” Dan said hurriedly. He glanced at Phil and added: “I’m going to give the phone to Phil, just hang on.” He pressed the phone into his boyfriend’s hand and crossed the hall to open his mother’s door. “I’ve got to go pick up some friends,” Dan told her quickly. “I’ll be back soon.”

 

“Alright, let me know when you’re home.”

 

“Sure,” Dan said; he pulled the door shut and waved to Phil. He grabbed the car keys from the foyer table and hurried down the stairs. Phil was saying something to Louise as Dan ushered him out the front door, however he wasn’t paying attention. Dan unlocked the car and let Phil climb in first, then got into the driver’s seat.

 

“We’ll be there soon,” he said as he started the car, and Phil repeated it. He backed out of the driveway, then shifted to drive and accelerated rapidly. 23rd Street was in the middle of town, nearly twenty minutes from his house under normal circumstances, but Dan didn’t adhere to speed limits. He made it there in less than fifteen.

 

“Come with me,” Dan said to Phil as he undid his seatbelt. Phil climbed out and Dan locked the car; he could only hope no one busted a window in order to steal it. Number eight definitely was hosting a party, there were people spread out on the front yard carrying plastic cups filled with what Dan guessed to be alcohol and worse things. Two girls were on top of a picnic table dancing to Beyoncé, and Dan spotted at least one guy actually touching himself. Dan grabbed Phil’s arm and pulled him to his side, wrapping his arm tightly around his shoulders. “Do not let go of me,” he ordered Phil, who nodded obediently. Dan took the phone from him and pressed it to his ear.

 

“Louise, where in the house are you?” Dan asked.

 

“Second-floor bathroom,” Louise replied. “Oh, that’s disgusting...”

 

“What?” Dan said.

 

“Well, PJ is throwing up now, that’s for certain…”

 

Dan didn’t ask again. He spotted a stairway and pushed past two people making out to get to it, Phil still clamped to his side. He transferred his grip to Phil’s hand and pulled him up the stairs, moving as quickly as he could manage. He recognized the house at that point, the narrow and steep stairs, the cracked plaster walls; he’d been there once with Carter a year or so ago. The owner of the house was definitely a member of 22nd Street. Dan glanced up and down the hallway, then spotted a door with a chink of light under it. He walked up to it and knocked.

 

“Who’s there?” said Louise, her voice coming from both the phone and behind the door.

 

“I’m here,” Dan answered, “unlock the door.”

 

He heard a click, and Dan lowered the phone to hang up. Louise peered out, then she opened the door fully. “Hi, Dan,” she said with a weak smile. “Can we leave now?”

 

“Yes,” he said. “Can PJ and Chris walk?”

 

“Erm, PJ probably can, with some help,” Louise said, glancing over her shoulder. “But, erm, Chris… not so much.”

 

Dan stepped closer, looking into the bathroom. He spotted PJ first, leaning over a toilet, then Christ lying in the bathtub, snoring faintly. He swore under his breath. “Fine. Louise, you help PJ, I’ll carry Chris.”

 

Louise nodded, she moved to PJ’s side and tapped his shoulder. “Sweetie, we’ve got to go,” she said. Dan looked back down the hallway to make sure no one was there, then dropped Phil’s hand to step into the bathroom and haul Chris out of the bathtub. He gave a heave on Chris’s arm, then waved to Phil for him to help him. Together, they pulled Chris up and Phil helped Dan pull him onto his back piggy-back style.

 

Dan locked his hands under Chris’s legs and looked back at Louise, who was patting PJ’s back; he’d started to throw up again. When he’d stopped, Louise pulled him up, but grunted under his weight. “Phil, would you help Louise hold up PJ?” Dan asked his boyfriend.

 

“Sure,” Phil said with a nod. He moved to PJ’s other side and wrapped the apparently only half conscious boy’s arm over his shoulder. Dan exited the bathroom first, already beginning to feel weary carrying Chris on his back. Louise, PJ, and Phil all shuffled sideways from the bathroom, then Dan turned back down the corridor. The stairs proved to be more difficult; PJ had to put his hands on Phil’s shoulders while Louise gripped his waist to stumble downstairs like some strange, intoxicated conga line while Dan had to keep adjusting Chris to keep him from falling off of his back. They managed to get out of the house and to Dan’s car without anyone hailing them, and Dan thought they might even get away cleanly. He was trying to get PJ to stop giggling long enough to strap him into a seatbelt when he heard someone yell his name.

 

Dan hastily looked around for Phil; he was already in the car, only Louise and he were still standing outside. Dan shoved PJ into the car and shut the door quickly before he could fall back out before turning around.

 

“Dan the man!” laughed the man who’d called him; Dan recognized him as a guy who had graduated to 22nd Street two years ago, but he didn’t remember his name. Clearly, however, this man remembered his, as he had no trouble shouting it again, twice as loud this time. “Dan Howell! Daniel, my friend, how are you?”

 

“Fine,” Dan replied cooly. The man glanced at Louise and raised his eyebrows and beer bottle.

 

“Who’s your pretty friend?” he said, slurring a little.

 

“No one,” Dan snapped. “Get in the car,” he told Louise. She gave him a startled look, then turned and darted around to the passenger side door; Phil unlocked it for her and she climbed in beside him. Dan nodded to Phil, and he locked the door again.

 

“You in a hurry, Dan?” the man asked. “You just got here!”

 

“We’re all lightweights,” Dan quipped dryly.

 

“Shame, she’s pretty,” said the man with a sigh. “Hey! Have you heard from Carter? Rick told me he was arrested again last week.”

 

Dan hesitated, thinking of the phone call he’d gotten that afternoon. But he remembered the background noise of cars, and the sound of Carter raising a bottle to his lips, and he shrugged. “Wherever he is, it’s not in prison,” was all he said.

 

“Oh, great; he owes me a tenner from last week’s game.” The man took another swig from his beer bottle and Dan contemplated getting in his car and driving away, however, another man approached, this one Dan recognized, not from school but the times that Carter had dragged him along to places like this. His name was Hector, but Dan didn’t know a surname to go with it. He was flanked by two girls in bikini tops and denim shorts, and Dan could tell they were both freezing by the points in the thin fabric of their bikinis. He pitied them.

 

“Hey,” Hector said in a slow, slurred voice. “I know you.”

 

“Yeah, that’s Jones’s boy toy!” hiccuped the man who’d first hailed him. “Dan!”

 

Hector gave him a sneer and laughed. “I remember now, you used to hang off of Jones’s arm all the time. Where’d you go?”

 

“School,” Dan answered. He wanted to leave, but knew that if he pissed off these people, it wouldn’t end well. If he made himself sound like a boring nerd, however, they’d lose interest and move on, giving him an opportunity to get the hell out.

 

“Seriously?” Hector snorted. “I thought you were gonna join up with Jones.”

 

“Thought about it, but I wouldn’t ever have the guts. I’d be useless for anything but checking the grammar in threatening notes.”

 

Hector laughed for real that time, showing yellow teeth and one that was chipped. “You always were funny, Dan. What was your surname again?”

 

“Howell!” said the other man helpfully before Dan could lie and say Smith. Dan tried to appear emotionless as he nodded.

 

“Howell,” Hector murmured. “Isn’t there a teacher up at the primary school with that name?”

 

“Unrelated,” Dan answered first. Hector shrugged.

 

“Whatever. I was gonna say that broad was hot, but I guess you wouldn’t care.”

 

“Not particularly,” Dan drawled.

 

Hector opened his mouth again, however, someone called him before he could say anything else and he turned. “In a minute!” he shouted in the general direction of whoever had called him, then turned back to Dan. “Well, it was good seeing you Howell,” he said in a gruff voice. “Go on and get your ass back home to your mummy; I can tell you don’t want to be here.”

 

“Yep, that’s me, I’d rather be at home safe and sound,” Dan said. Hector laughed again, and Dan waved to him as he and his escorts left. The other man gave Dan a wave and turned to go. Dan quickly opened his driver’s side door and got into his car, locking the door behind him; he started the engine, then paused again at the sound of his name. He rolled down the window about two inches; some guy without a shirt and a large tattoo on his chest was waving a beer bottle in his direction.

 

“Howell! Have fun fucking Jones, you gay little whore!”

 

Dan didn’t stop to answer, he didn’t care enough to bother; he put the window back up and put his foot down on the accelerator.


	6. part six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A boy with a broken heart, who never learned to confess his thoughts to anyone but the moon, meets sunshine in the form of a boy in pastel pink shoes. In dreary England, all light is pale and fleeting, but the sun shines from his smile and his eyes, and the boy's broken heart is mended, put back together with glitter glue. In the end, the one winning in the situation will of course be Mrs. Howell, who shipped it before they even met.

 

* * *

_**part six** _

 

 

Only once he’d gotten away from the middle of downtown and past the school did Dan turn an angry gaze into his rearview mirror at PJ and Chris.

 

“Are you two fucking idiots?” he spat. Chris jerked upright, having woken up along the way, and looked affronted.

 

“I take offense!” Chris said, slurring the words.

 

“What were you thinking?” Dan asked harshly. “Why the hell would you go anywhere near that place?”

 

“It was a party!” Chris said, a stupid grin breaking his face. “Someone invited me to a party and said I could bring friends!”

 

“You ended up at a party with gang-bangers!” Dan snapped; the grin on Chris’s face instantly vanished.

 

“I did what now?” he asked.

 

“Those were actual gang members!” Dan said. “You probably drank punch spiked with marijuana, or worse even!”

 

“M – what?” PJ mumbled. “I think I'm going to be sick…”

 

“Be sick out the window,” Dan said unsympathetically. “And pray that you’ve puked it all up by now.”

 

“I thought it was just a party,” Chris mumbled.

 

“On 23rd street?” Dan asked. “Did you really not stop to think about who might be at a party on 23rd street?”

 

“Dan, I didn’t think he realized that was so close to 22nd,” Louise said quietly, but Dan turned his glare on her.

 

“Why didn’t you think then?” he asked. “You obviously were smart enough not to drink the punch, why didn’t you think about where you were?”

 

When Louise didn’t answer, simply looking down in shame at her clasped hands resting in her lap, Dan turned his gaze back onto the road, but he was still mad. “Did none of you stop to think that perhaps the people around you weren’t all your classmates? Or that perhaps they weren’t as nice as the people you’re used to, that just perhaps you were not safe?”

 

No one answered him. Dan gritted his teeth; he pressed a foot to the brake pedal gently to slow for a red light, then after he’d stopped he turned back in his seat and glared at both PJ and Chris. “Did you not notice the grown men that were eyeing Louise?” he snapped. “Your sixteen year old friend? Did you not stop to pay attention to the number of people around you that would not think twice before dropping GHB or rohypnol into her drink? Did you think at all?”

 

“Green light,” murmured Phil’s soft voice. Dan turned back, glancing at him, then lifted his foot off the brake and set it on the gas. Dan felt a hand on his leg, and glanced down, then up at Phil. His boyfriend was giving him a look that plainly said “Calm down.” Dan unclenched his jaw, then sighed. Phil set his head on Dan’s shoulder and began slowly rubbing Dan’s knee with his thumb, drawing gentle circles.

 

“I’m sorry,” Chris mumbled. Dan looked at him in the mirror.

 

“Don’t apologize to me,” he said. “Apologize to PJ and Louise! You’re the one who dragged them there.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Chris repeated, still slurring but his tone was sincere. Louise glanced over her shoulder at him, then nodded and looked back at the road. Dan flicked his gaze to her frightened face, and reached across Phil to pat her leg.

 

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” Dan murmured. “I just want you to be safe.”

 

“You’re right though,” she said, “we should have been more attentive.”

 

“I’ve never wished to be wrong this badly,” muttered Dan.

 

“We got them, though, they’re safe,” Phil reminded him. “You rescued them safely.”

 

Dan shot him a short but appreciative smile, then turned back to the road with the same serious expression. Phil pecked his cheek and set his head back on his shoulder.

 

“So, who is this guy?”

 

Dan looked at PJ in the rear view mirror with a furrowed brow. PJ looked still nauseous, but confused. “Who?” Dan asked.

 

“Him,” PJ said, pointing to Phil.

 

“Oh, that’s Phil,” Dan said. “PJ, Louise, Chris; Phil. Phil; PJ, Louise, Chris.”

 

“I’m his boyfriend,” Phil added.

 

“Nice to meet you, Phil,” Louise said, giving him a quick wave. “Thanks for helping rescue us.”

 

“No problem,” Phil replied.

 

“Could you roll down the window?” Chris asked, looking a little green again.

 

Dan sighed, but he cracked the forward windows. “Don’t open the ones back there, they won’t go back up.”

 

Chris nodded. Then he leaned back in his seat and shut his eyes, seeming to want to not puke. Dan shook his head with disappointment and turned onto his street.

 

Dan pulled the car into his driveway and shut off the engine; PJ immediately opened his door, leaned out of the car, and puked again. Dan grimaced.

 

“That’s nasty,” he muttered.

 

“Oh, my turn,” Chris mumbled; he too opened his door and vomited onto Dan’s driveway.

 

“You two are cleaning that up,” Dan said, unclipping his seatbelt. He pushed open his door and held up a hand to help Phil out. “Watch out for the sick,” he murmured.

 

Phil looked at the ground, then at Dan and raised his arms. “Carry me,” he said.

 

Dan rolled his eyes but laughed softly; “You’re not passed out drunk, what do you need carrying for?”

 

“Just to the door,” Phil said, sticking out his bottom lip. Dan rolled his eyes but nodded. Phil grinned and scooted to the edge of the bench, where Dan put his arms around his shoulders and under his knees, then lifted him up. Phil was fortunately very light, despite being 6 feet tall. Dan stepped around PJ’s still increasing pile of vomit and set Phil on the front walk. He turned back, and surveyed the scene before him. Louise had gotten herself out without stepping in anything, but PJ and Chris were stuck in the car with pools of puke on both sides.

 

“Fuck you guys, really,” Dan sighed. He crossed to the garden hose by the garage and pulled out some slack, then switched on the tap. Water flowed from the end, and Dan stepped forward, then shut his door and pushed his thumb over the steam to pressurize it. Water sprayed from beneath his thumb with greater speed, and splattered the puke covered ground. He washed it away, then moved to the other side and did the same.

 

“Thanks,” Chris mumbled as he got out of the car, slamming his door shut. Dan raised the hose and sprayed Chris. “Hey!” His friend protested; darting around to the other side of the car, where PJ was now hiding. Dan laughed pointedly at them, then returned the hose to its hook and switched the water off.

 

A now rather damp Chris approached the front walk and looked up at the house.

 

“Hey,” he said. “We’re at Dan’s!”

 

“Yes, we are,” Dan said, raising his eyebrows. “I’m going to call all of your parents and tell them you’re staying here tonight so you don’t get grounded for drinking underage.”

 

“I’m eighteen!” PJ protested.

 

“Barely,” Dan pointed out. “Now get your asses inside.”

 

Dan tossed his keys to Phil so he could unlock the door, as he was closest, then grabbed Chris’s arm and stopped him from falling flat onto his face. PJ stopped on the step to sway and try to recover his own balance, so Dan grabbed his arm as well and pulled both of them up. Louise took Chris from him so Dan could help PJ up the stairs while she helped Chris.

 

“We’re back, Mum!” Dan shouted.

 

“Hi!” his mother called in a generic greeting. Dan made the mistake of letting go of PJ’s arm, who immediately whistled softly as he fell over backwards with a heavy thud onto the floor. Dan looked back at him, unamused.

 

“What was that?” Dan’s mother appeared from the hallway. “Oh! PJ, what are you doing on the floor?”

 

“I fell over,” PJ mumbled.

 

“What did you fall over for?” Dan’s mum asked.

 

“Ha. Ha. Ha,” PJ said sarcastically.

 

“They’re drunk,” Dan told his mum. “PJ and Chris I mean, Louise was smart enough to not drink anything.”

 

Dan’s mother looked between the three newcomers, then to Louise and said: “Given your company, sweetheart, I’m surprised you had the self-control not to.”

 

Louise smiled but shrugged. Dan rolled his eyes as he offered a hand to PJ; he pulled him up and started down the hallway. “I’m going to keep them here tonight, if you don’t mind, Mum.”

 

“Oh, that’s fine; do you want me to phone their parents?”

 

“No, I’ll do that,” Dan answered. “Louise, bring Chris.”

 

“Sure,” Louise replied. “Come on, Chris.”

 

“Do you have any food, Mrs. Dan’s Mother?” Chris asked as Louise pulled him after Dan.

 

“Ignore him!” Dan shouted before his mother could answer. Dan dropped PJ into a bean bag chair, then turned to help Louise guide Chris into another. Phil shut the door behind them, and Dan glared down at them both.

 

“You two are the biggest idiots in the world,” he grumbled. “Gimme your phones.”

 

“Why?” Chris asked suspiciously while PJ stupidly pulled his out and held it out. Dan snatched PJ’s phone and held his hand out for Chris’s, eyebrows raised expectantly. Chris sighed, then slipped his phone from his pocket and handed it over. Dan shook his head at them, then turned away and unlocked Chris’s phone. He stepped past Phil as he opened Chris’s contacts, then out of the room and began towards the kitchen while he found Mrs. Kendall in his friend’s phone. He dialed her and held the phone up to his ear.

 

“Hello?”

 

“Mrs. Kendall, this is Dan Howell.”

 

“Oh, hello, Dan, what’s going on?”

 

“Nothing, Chris just asked me to call you, he’s just gone into the bathroom; he’s going to spend the night at my house so we can work on homework.”

 

“Oh, splendid! Tell him to call me tomorrow and I love him!”

 

“Sure, Mrs. Kendall,” Dan said. “Have a nice night.” Dan dropped the phone and ended the call, then switched to PJ’s phone; he opened the fridge and pulled out a jug of water while the phone dialed.

 

“PJ, hi!” Said the cheery voice of PJ’s mother.

 

“Actually, it’s Dan, Dan Howell; PJ asked me to call you.”

 

“Oh, is something wrong?”

 

“No, he just went into the bathroom,” Dan gave the same lie. “He’s going to stay at my house tonight so we can work on homework.”

 

“Okay, sure that’s fine, tell him to give me a call in the morning.”

 

“I’ll do that, have a good night,” Dan ended the call and dropped the phone into his jacket pocket with Chris’s. He grabbed two plastic cups from the cabinet and lifted the jug, kicking the fridge door shut as he passed it. He re-entered his bedroom and set the cups on his desk, then filled them both with water from the jug.

 

“Here,” he said, holding them out to Chris and PJ. “Drink. It might make your hangover less horrible in the morning.”

 

PJ took the water and raised it to his lips, only to slosh most of it over his face. Chris had to make several attempts to clench his fingers around the cup, but fortunately Dan expected that so he didn’t let go until Chris pulled it from his hand. Dan turned around, glancing around the room; Phil had set himself on Dan’s bed, leaning against the pillows, and Louise was seated at his desk. Dan looked back to Chris and PJ, and gave them another glare.

 

“What?” Chris said. “We’ve said we’re sorry!”

 

“I’m blaming you two for spoiling my evening,” Dan said, jabbing a finger in their direction. He grabbed the Xbox and TV controllers, crossed over to his bed and dropped onto it, throwing an arm around Phil’s shoulders.

 

“Ooh! Can we watch cartoons?” Chris asked, half falling out of his bean bag. Dan shot him a disapproving look. Chris recoiled, muttering a never mind. Dan turned his TV on and then the Xbox, then handed the controller to Phil.

 

“You pick something on Netflix,” he said softly. Phil gave him a smile and leaned his head on Dan’s shoulder.

 

Phil signed into Dan’s profile, then opened Netflix and flicked the left stick down to Dan’s continue watching list. “I want to watch another Disney movie,” Phil murmured to Dan.

 

“That’s fine, whatever you want to watch,” Dan told him.

 

“NO!” Chris groaned loudly, throwing back his arms and sloshing water onto Dan’s (mostly) white carpet. “NOT FUCKING DISNEY!”

 

“Shut up, Chris!” Dan snapped. Chris’s attitude faltered at the glare he received from Dan, and he slumped in the bean bag with a pout, that unlike Phil’s, was very unbecoming. Dan flicked his gaze back to the TV screen, where Phil was searching through Disney movies.

 

“Hercules or Mulan?” Phil asked.

 

“Mulan,” Dan answered. “It’s been awhile since I’ve had “I’ll Make A Man Out Of You” stuck in my head.” Phil nodded and selected Mulan; he dropped the controller and leaned back against Dan while the movie began.

 

The movie was only ninety minutes, but PJ and Chris were both nodding off by the end, so Dan had to get up and pull sleeping bags from his closet to give them a decent bed. He opened them both and spread them on the floor, layered one on the other, then got out a spare duvet while the two drunk idiots curled up like cats on the sleeping bags, facing each other and Chris already beginning to drool. Dan shook his head at them and shoved pillows under their heads, Chris’s pillow bearing a cheap yet water resistant case that Dan didn’t mind being soaked in saliva, then draped the duvet over them.

 

“They’re going to have horrible headaches in the morning,” Dan sighed. He glanced at Louise, who was still in his desk chair. “You can sit in the bean bag chairs, y’know,” he offered. She nodded, looking grateful, and stepped over PJ and Chris to settle herself in the blue bean bag. “And when you get tired, you can go downstairs and sleep in Adrian’s room.”

 

“That’s what I always do,” Louise said with a smile. Dan nodded, moving back to his bed and Phil. She, PJ, and Chris were Dan’s best friends, had been since he'd moved there nearly five years ago, so they often spent nights at his house, as he had the largest TV and the most accommodating mother. Chris and PJ always ended up on the floor because Chris drooled and PJ kicked people in his sleep, Louise in Adrian’s room in the basement as she was a girl – despite only PJ being remotely interested in girls and more interested in Chris than anything else –, and Dan alone in his own bed, but that night –

 

“Are you going to stay here tonight, Phil?” Dan asked Phil as he slipped his arm around him again. Phil checked his watch and shrugged.

 

“It’s only nine,” he said. “But I guess so.”

 

Dan pecked his lips. “Then you should tell your mum,” he pointed out.

 

Phil nodded, smiling softly. “I’ll just text her. You pick another movie.”

 

“Another Disney movie?”

 

“Whatever you’re in the mood for, babe.”

 

Dan smirked as Phil called him ‘babe’; Phil glanced up from his phone and caught him smirking, then looked back down with pink cheeks. Louise rolled her eyes.

 

Dan went back to Browse and flicked down to his list; he searched through it until he found an old comedy he thought Phil would like, called Baby’s Day Out; the movie literally was about a baby who spent a day, an extremely lucky day, wandering the streets of a metropolis while being pursued by both kidnappers and police. The movie left them in tears of laughter, to the point that Dan’s mother had to stick her head in the room to see what they were watching because they woke her up.

 

“Okay, I’m watching this tomorrow, but go the fuck to sleep!” Dan’s mum said in a sleepily whispered shout, then pulled the door shut tight. Then opened it again and she looked to Louise. “Sweetheart, are you staying tonight?”

 

“Yes, and I texted my mum already,” Louise answered, stifling her laughter as best she could.

 

“Okay, well, Adrian’s bedsheets haven’t been changed in a while; they’re still flannel.”

 

“That’s fine, Mum,” Louise replied; she always called Dan’s mother that, despite not being related to her in any way, “I get cold at night anyway.”

 

“Alright, you tell Dan if you need anything, he’ll get it for you,” Dan’s mother said, then she yawned. “Now, go the fuck to sleep!” she barked at the three of them, and shut the door forcefully again. Dan glanced at Louise, then at Phil, then they burst into laughter again. His mother got very grumpy when her sleep was disrupted.

 

The door opened a third time, and Dan’s mother glared at all of them. She opened her mouth, probably to tell them again to go the fuck to sleep, but was cut off by a sudden exclamation by Chris:

 

“Oh god, Peej, do that again...”

 

The three of them immediately stopped laughing, and they and Dan’s mother stared with wide eyes at the floor. Dan’s mother blinked at the two sleeping forms, then she said: “Nope,” and backed up, pulling the door shut.

 

“If they start making weird noises, I’m sleeping on the couch,” Phil said to Dan.

 

“If they start making noises, we’ll both sleep on the couch,” Dan replied.

 

“I’m just glad I get the basement,” Louise muttered.

 

“Lucky,” Phil said. Dan looked to Phil with an offended expression.

 

“But we were going to start making noises,” he pointed out. Phil blushed and Louise snorted.

 

“Kay, if anyone begins making sex noises of any kind, I'm leaving,” Louise stated.

 

“Ohhh,” moaned Chris. The three of them stopped to stare at Chris again.

 

“Should we do something about them?” Phil asked.

 

“Yeah, lock them in a room with only a bed and not let them out until they’ve admitted they both want to fuck each other,” Dan replied.

 

“I meant right now, brat.”

 

Dan shrugged. “Chris is just dreaming. It’s not the first time.”

 

Louise looked up sharply. “What have I missed by sleeping in the basement?” she asked in a hushed tone.

 

Dan met her gaze, then slowly shook his head. “You do not want to know.”

 

She looked almost horrified. Phil snuggled closer to Dan’s side, a bright red blush on his face. Dan picked up the Xbox controller and returned to Netflix Browse, looking up at Louise. “Do we want to watch another movie?” he asked.

 

Louise checked her phone, then shook her head. “It’s a Wednesday night, and it’s past midnight now. I'm going to the basement; I’ve still got a toothbrush and face wash in Adrian’s bathroom, right?”

 

“You’ve got a whole kit in there; makeup, some clothes, I think there’s even tampons,” Dan said. “Next time Adrian comes back, he’s going to ask if Mum forgot what his gender is.”

 

Louise giggled softly, rising from her bean bag. “I’ll see you in the morning, boys,” she said, tip-toeing around Chris and PJ to get to the door. “Don’t make enough noise to reach the basement,” she warned, then slipped out of the room. Dan looked at Phil.

 

“What?” Phil said. Dan just kissed him. Phil giggled, pushing him back. “Dan, your friends are in here.”

 

“They’re passed out,” Dan said, locking his arms around Phil’s waist. He nuzzled Phil’s neck and kissed his jawline.

 

“Still, what if you woke them up?”

 

“You’d be the one to wake them,” Dan mumbled. “I bet you’re loud.”

 

Phil blushed and shook his head. “You’re a tramp,” he murmured.

 

“We’ve established that, princess,” Dan whispered in his ear. Phil shivered, both at the breath falling on his skin and the word that got him off. Dan grinned at him, then pulled back. “But you’re right. We should just go to sleep.”

 

“Erm, right,” Phil mumbled. “Can I borrow pajamas again?”

 

“Yeah, the ones you slept in last night should be where you left them.” Dan slipped off the bed and moved around it to go into the bathroom, where his pajama pants were. Phil found his pajamas on the desk and moved past Dan into the bathroom to change. Dan stripped his clothes and pulled on the pants while Phil was in the bathroom, then balled up his used clothes and shoved them into his hamper. He paused to stare at Chris and PJ a second, still a bit pissed at them. But mostly Chris, because he was the one to go to that party in the first place. He looked up at the sound of the bathroom door opening, and Phil stepping back into the room. Dan hadn't looked at the clothes when he gave them to him the previous night, but now he let out a snort. Phil raised an eyebrow.

 

“Why do you own this?” Phil asked, gesturing to the shirt he was wearing.

 

“I don’t even know,” Dan laughed. “But it suits you.”

 

Phil looked down at it, the close up of Nicki Minaj's face and the chorus to Anaconda but with one alteration: _”My anaconda don’t want none unless you got buns another anaconda hun.”_

 

Phil raised his eyebrow further. Dan shook his head and stepped up to him, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. “It is true,” he added.

 

“Fuck you,” Phil said exasperatedly.

 

“I like that plan!”

 

Phil rolled his eyes and pulled back the blankets of the bed. Dan, still chuckling, crossed the room to switch off the light. He moved around Chris and PJ by the light flitting in through the curtains to his side of the bed and slid in between the blankets next to Phil. His boyfriend slipped closer, Dan lay his arm out so he could curl up by his side, his head resting on his shoulder. The same way they’d woken up that morning. The surprise, arousal, and embarrassment Dan had felt then felt miles away by that time. Well, excluding the arousal; that was still there. Dan pressed a soft kiss to Phil’s forehead, his hand falling to rest on top of Phil’s which lay on his chest.

 

“Goodnight, princess,” Dan murmured.

 

“Goodnight, Dan,” Phil whispered, his lips brushing against Dan’s skin. Dan closed his eyes, for once in his life, happy to fall asleep.

 

Dan’s alarm woke him at seven, the same purring chorus by Andy Biersack, and Dan blearily snoozed it. He yawned and shifted his gaze down, then smiled at the sight of Phil pressed against his side. He set his hand on Phil’s and squeezed it gently. “Morning, princess,” he murmured.

 

Phil stirred, then opened one eye and looked up at him with a disgruntled expression. “I was have a very nice dream,” he mumbled, “and you messed it up. Brat,” he added as he shut his eyes again.

 

“What was it about?” Dan asked softly.

 

“I don’t even remember,” Phil said around a yawn. Dan shifted onto his side and pressed a kiss to Phil’s lips.

 

“I bet we could recreate it,” he whispered against his mouth. Phil’s lips curled in a smile and he slipped his arms around Dan’s neck.

 

“You probably could,” he agreed.

 

Dan drifted his lips to the side of Phil’s neck and nuzzled his skin gently, then placed a kiss on Phil’s quickening pulse. Dan shifted again, sliding a leg over Phil to lay directly over him, his weight resting on his arms on either side of his boyfriend’s head. Phil’s hands pressed against Dan’s chest for a moment, slowly drifting down his stomach, then around to the small of his back where he pushed down softly. Dan chuckled a little and, taking the hint, carefully ground his hips against Phil’s, eliciting a quiet moan from the boy’s pearly pink lips. Dan dragged his open lips from Phil’s pulse to his ear, then bit at his cartilage and whispered: “How am I doing, princess?”

 

“Mmm,” was all Phil could say, and Dan chuckled again. He brought his lips back to Phil’s and kissed him a little more roughly, slanting his lips and catching Phil’s lip with his teeth. Phil’s hips bucked against his faintly, so Dan pressed down again, reveling in the stiffness beneath him, caused by him. Phil’s hands slipped over the curve of Dan’s ass and back up to his shoulders, then his fingers raked down Dan’s back in a gentle, wanting motion.

 

“You turn me on so fucking much, princess,” Dan mumbled as he kissed Phil’s collar bone with an open mouth. He nipped at the skin and Phil moaned; his lips forming Dan’s name. Dan kissed his lips again, harder this time, and Phil murmured unintelligible words that revealed his arousal. He kissed his cheek, then his jaw, then his neck and started to suck in a hickey. Phil’s hands pushed under the hem of his pajamas and squeezed; Dan gave a sexual laugh and bit at Phil’s neck, fully intent on leaving a mark on his skin, a physical claim in the form of a bruise.

 

“Do you have any painkillers, Dan?”

 

Phil jumped a little beneath him, his hands shooting back up to Dan’s shoulders, but Dan flat out ignored Chris’s question, instead moving his lips to a spot on Phil’s shoulder.

 

“Dan!” Chris called.

 

“Shut the fuck up, Chris!” Dan growled. He lifted his head to glare over his shoulder; Chris was sitting up just enough for his head to pop over the edge of Dan’s bed and was covering his eyes with a hand, more at protest of the light than what Dan was doing to Phil.

 

“My head hurts,” Chris moaned, but in a whine rather than a gasp of enjoyment.

 

“I don’t fucking care,” Dan snapped. “Go back to sleep.”

 

“I can’t, I’m too hungover!” Chris flopped backwards and disappeared from view. Dan nodded satisfactorily and looked back to Phil, thinking of resuming kissing his neck, but Phil was looking at him with an expression of distaste.

 

“What?” Dan said.

 

“Go get your friend some painkillers,” Phil ordered.

 

“It’s his fault!” Dan protested.

 

“And you offered to care for him,” he pointed out. “Go.”

 

Dan grumbled under his breath, but pulled himself off of Phil and slid off the bed. He shot a glare at Chris then shoved open his bathroom door and flicked on the light. He pulled the mirror cabinet open and grabbed a bottle of Advil, then shuffled out and to the floor in front of his bed. He poked Chris with his foot, then again when Chris didn't move.

 

“Oi,” Dan said. “Pills.”

 

Chris sat up on his elbows and held out his hand. Dan opened the bottle and shook three out, then dropped them in Chris’s hand. Chris grabbed a cup of water and downed the pills, then dropped back onto the floor. Dan jabbed PJ’s leg with a foot as well, until the other boy opened his eyes and groaned in pain. He gave him the same amount of pills, then watched while he swallowed them.

 

“Bus’ll be here in forty-five minutes, give or take,” Dan said. “That means you have forty minutes to get over your hangovers, then five to scramble your asses to the bus stop.”

 

Chris just groaned. Dan ignore him and put the cap back on the pill bottle, then dropped it onto his desk. He looked back at Phil, who was still laying in his bed under the blankets. His gaze flicked to his boyfriend’s lower half, then smirked at the slight tent in the blankets.

 

“They’re awake now,” Phil said, not missing where Dan’s eye had gone. This made Dan scowl.

 

“Fuck you guys,” Dan said snappishly toward Chris and PJ.

 

“That’s what you’ve got Phil for, innit?” PJ mumbled. Dan snorted while Phil blushed and pulled the blankets over his head.

 

Dan stepped over his friends and opened his dresser; he figured that if Phil was no longer in the mood, he might as well get dressed. After taking out a pair of clean boxers and some jeans, Dan pulled his pajama pants off and tossed them aside, then, turning away from Chris and PJ, slid off his boxers and stepped into the clean pair. But he paused at the sound of a soft gasp, and looked up to see Phil peaking out from under the blankets. Dan smirked but pulled the boxers up to cover himself. Phil stuck his bottom lip out in a pout.

 

“Hey, you said it yourself, those idiots are awake now,” Dan reminded him with a laugh.

 

“These idiots will immediately run screaming from the room if needed,” came PJ’s voice from the floor. Dan rolled his eyes, but he stepped closer to the bed and gave Phil a quick kiss.

 

“Let’s just get up,” he said.

 

“I, erm, I need a minute,” Phil mumbled. Dan’s gaze flicked back to the raised indentation in his blankets and he smirked once more.

 

“You take your time, princess,” he murmured softly, then straightened up and turned away.

 

“That does not help,” Phil mumbled. Dan only laughed as he began digging in a drawer for a shirt.

 

He turned to step over his two idiot friends and found PJ sitting up, leaning against the TV cabinet. “You need any help, there Peej?” he asked him in an obnoxiously cheery voice.

 

“Nuuu,” PJ mumbled, his hands covering his eyes. Dan rolled his own, then stepped over Chris towards the bathroom.

 

“It’s your own damn fault,” Dan reminded him. “You’ve got toothbrushes in here.”

 

“I know,” PJ muttered; Dan watched him fall backwards onto his pillow, then flip over and bury his face in the floral case. Dan wasn’t sure exactly why one of his mother’s pillowcases was in his room, now that he thought about it. He shook his head once more and stepped into the bathroom to brush his teeth. As he was rinsing, Phil slipped in behind him, carefully closing the door behind him. Dan raised an eyebrow at him as he gargled, but Phil rolled his eyes.

 

“I’ve got to wee,” Phil mumbled. “Shut up.”

 

Dan snorted. “Why would I need to shut up? That’s a natural bodily function.”

 

Phil shook his head at him, then approached the toilet. He glanced at him, then raised his eyebrows.

 

“What?” Dan said.

 

“Don’t look,” Phil mumbled, his face beet red.

 

Dan grinned, then stepped closer and slipped his arms around Phil’s waist. He pressed a kiss to Phil’s neck, then his shoulder, then rested his forehead on his collarbone. “I’m not looking,” he murmured, his lips brushing against Phil’s skin. He felt him shiver and smiled.

 

“That is in no way helpful,” Phil scolded. “Get off so I can pee.”

 

Dan laughed and released him; he stepped back to the sink and grabbed a comb to run through his hair. Phil had left it quite a mess. He kept his back to Phil while he combed his hair, until the sound of liquid pouring into the porcelain bowl ceased.

 

“S’cuse,” Phil said, stepping towards the sink after flushing.

 

Dan stepped aside to let Phil wash his hands, then reached around his back to grab his straightener. His hair wasn’t that much of a mess, but there were a few strands that had curled again at the ends, and he didn’t like it that way. He went to switch it on, but Phil turned, his face dangerously close to Dan’s, and with a small smile reached past him to pull the hand towel from its hook.

 

“Hi,” Dan said, the corner of his lip curling upward.

 

“Hi,” Phil said with a little giggle. He pulled the towel to his chest and carefully dried his hands, his dark eyelashes fluttering as he blinked. Dan’s empty hand ended up at his waist, then he set down whatever was in his other hand – he neither remembered nor cared – and took the towel from Phil’s hand.

 

“There are no idiot friends in here,” he murmured. Phil giggled again.

 

“You’re a horny person in the morning, aren’t you?” his boyfriend said.

 

“Only because I slept with a beautiful boy in my arms last night,” Dan whispered. His lips were not quite against Phil’s, but so close that he could feel his skin tingling in anticipation.

 

Phil blushed, his gaze dropping down in embarrassment. His hands came to rest on Dan’s chest, and Dan’s now empty hand set itself on Phil’s waist. Dan brushed his lips over the tip of Phil’s nose, then gently pressed his forehead against his, causing Phil to look up. He pressed his lips to Phil’s, a slow and soft kiss, the kind one expects on sleepy mornings when one finds oneself basking in pleasure at the sight of godly beauty.

 

“Did I ever say good morning?” Dan murmured.

 

“No,” answered Phil, his voice breathy and low. Dan inhaled a shaky breath; the sound of Phil’s voice filled his mind with desire.

 

“Good morning,” Dan whispered. Then he kissed him again, his lips pressing more roughly, his tongue pushing apart Phil’s lips, his hands pulling him closer. He felt a need to hold him, to draw him close deep in his bones. There was something about the touch of his hand, the curve of his bashful smile, the intense blue that was his eyes, that made Dan want to stay with him until they were both too old to even remember that anyone else ever even existed. He kissed him with that strange emotion that was blossoming in his gut, or maybe in his heart or even his cock; all he could think of was the smell of him, the taste of his lips, the softness of his skin. Phil’s hands were pressed on either side of Dan’s neck, his warm fingers tangled in the hair at the base of his skull. Standing in the cramped narrowness of his bathroom with his hands at the waist of a literal ray of sunshine and his lips pressed against Phil’s, Dan realized he no longer felt the lingering pain of an old heartbreak. And that was okay.

 

“Hey, are you guys having a quickie or something? I’ve gotta piss like elephant.”

 

Dan lifted his lips from Phil’s, wondering whether or not he should have left Chris passed out in that bathtub. He mumbled an apology to Phil, who was giggling behind his hand, turned around and yanked the door open. He glared crossly down at his much shorter friend.

 

“Come on, I have to pee!” Chris whined.

 

“Next time you’re drunk, I’m going to bring you straight back to your mother,” Dan snapped. He stepped out, Phil on his heel, and Chris darted inside, slamming the door. Dan glared at the shut door.

 

“I could swear the universe is against us or something,” Phil said with half a laugh.

 

“No, just these idiots,” Dan grumbled. He glanced over at PJ, raising an eyebrow. “You gonna do some other weird shit that’ll interrupt Phil and I now, hmm?”

 

PJ sat up with a yawn. “Honestly, no. It’s about time you pulled your head out of your ass and got back to dating.”

 

Dan recoiled a little; that was not what he was expecting.

 

“In his defense,” Phil piped up, “his ass is quite spectacular.”

 

PJ snorted as Dan flushed; his friend rose from the ground, stretching his arms over his head, and said: “You certainly got lucky, Dan, you found a gay boy who not only is attractive, but funny.”

 

“I happen to believe quality of humor and non-heterosexuality to be interrelated,” said Phil, a slight air of pompousness about him. This made both Dan and PJ laugh, and Phil grin at his own wit. There was a knock at the door, and Dan, still laughing, moved across the room to answer it.

 

Louise stepped past him, already dressed and wearing her normal makeup. She put her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes at the three of them.

 

“None of you look remotely ready to leave,” she said.

 

“Well, if those two would just stop interrupting us, Phil and I could get our typical morning make-out session and start getting ready!” Dan said defensively. Phil flushed bright pink and clapped his hands over his mouth, looking mortified while PJ and Louise rolled their eyes.

 

“Dan!” he gasped, “We don’t have a typical morning make-out session, we only just got together!”

 

“Then we’ve got to start the precedent, haven’t we,” Dan replied flippantly. Phil shook his head at him.

 

“I swear, you’re the world’s biggest slut,” Phil murmured, moving over to the desk and turning his back on them to dig in his bag.

 

Dan rolled his eyes while Louise and PJ laughed at him. “Yeah, yeah,” he muttered. He stepped around Phil to bang on the bathroom door. “Chris! Hurry up so everyone can get ready!”

 

“I’m peeing, shut the fuck up!” Chris shouted back.

 

Dan turned away with an expression of resigned resentment. “Next time, I’m leaving you at your mum’s house,” he mumbled to himself.

 

Just then, Dan’s mother appeared behind Louise, her eyebrows raised and her arms crossed over the front of her blouse. “Daniel, were you planning on providing your guests with breakfast anytime soon?” she asked him, her tone one of scolding.

 

“Louise, PJ, and Phil, yes,” Dan said. “But Chris can go fuck himself.”

 

“My mother always taught me never to masturbate in someone else’s bathroom!” came Chris’s still slurred voice. All five of them stared at the bathroom door a moment, until Dan’s mother and Louise slowly backed out of the room and pulled the door shut. Dan then glared at both the bathroom and bedroom doors.

 

“Traitors!” he called. PJ snorted, then quickly made his own exodus to the kitchen.

 

Dan turned to Phil, hoping for some glimmer of hope in this wholly strange situation. Phil looked at him pityingly, then opened his arms to offer a hug. Dan took it, dropping his head onto Phil’s shoulder with an exaggerated pout.

 

“Why do I have such fucked up friends?” Dan murmured.

 

“Babe, they’re your friends, not mine,” Phil reminded him.

 

“Actually, since you’re dating Dan now, we’ve adopted you as a friend,” said Chris as he exited the bathroom.

 

“In that case, did you wash your hands?” Phil said, an eyebrow raised.

 

Chris paused, then took a step back and shut the door again. They heard the sound of the faucet turning on, then the pumping of the soap dispenser, then a second after that the water shut off and Chris opened the door again.

 

“Yes,” he answered Phil matter-of-factly. Phil rolled his eyes.

 

“Get out already,” Dan said, letting go of Phil and grabbing Chris by the shoulders. “Go get breakfast,” he said as he opened the door and shoved Chris out.

 

“Well then,” Chris huffed offendedly as Dan slammed the door on his ass, which caused a loud yelp. Dan quickly locked the door, hoping for no one else to inconveniently stick their heads into the room, and dropped his back onto the door with a sigh.

 

“Sometimes,” he said softly, “I wish Chris was a fucking dog or something.”

 

“What, so you could just put him in the yard and not worry about him?” Phil asked with a snicker.

 

“No, so I could send him to the pound,” Dan sighed.

 

“I heard that!” Chris shouted.

 

“Fuck you, Chris!” Dan shouted back.

 

“But that’s what you’ve got Phil for!” answered PJ’s voice.

 

“Oh, just fuck off together, the pair of you!”

 

“That’s rude,” he heard Chris mutter, but Dan no longer cared. Phil had buried his face into his hands and was sitting on the edge of the bed, slowly shaking his head.

 

“I am deeply sorry about them,” Dan said to Phil. “They’re all assholes. Well, except Louise. But the rest of them are assholes.”

 

Phil dropped his hands, looking up at Dan with a wide grin of both embarrassment and confused amusement. “That seems to be your type,” Phil said with half a laugh.

 

Dan was quiet a second, then a snigger slipped his lips, followed by a laugh. “I don’t know what to do with you, Phil,” he laughed, stepping forward and falling onto the bed next to Phil, who lay back to face him and grinned wider.

 

“Obviously, you’re meant to kiss me,” Phil murmured as he laughed.

 

“Oh, is that it?” Dan asked, raising his eyebrows and smiling at him.

 

“Well, yes,” he said. “I mean, you’re a giant whore anyway.”

 

Dan laughed again, his hands falling onto his stomach and his eyes falling shut. “What the hell, Phil?” he choked out between laughs.

 

“You said it first,” Phil reminded him, a smirk curling his lip.

 

“Did I?” Dan said, tilting his head and meeting Phil’s gaze with a warm smile. “I don’t recall. You’ll have to prove it, princess.”

 

Phil’s smirk carried to his eyes as he leaned forwards and pressed his lips against Dan’s.

 

Dan was going to have a really great day.


	7. part seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A boy with a broken heart, who never learned to confess his thoughts to anyone but the moon, meets sunshine in the form of a boy in pastel pink shoes. In dreary England, all light is pale and fleeting, but the sun shines from his smile and his eyes, and the boy's broken heart is mended, put back together with glitter glue. In the end, the one winning in the situation will of course be Mrs. Howell, who shipped it before they even met.

* * *

  _ **part seven**_

 

 

Even though Chris was still a little hungover and PJ tripped twice over his own feet, they still left to get the bus in time. The only other person who shared a stop with him was already at the bus stop when Dan and his friends arrived, and she just looked at them like the lot of them were both irritating and confusing. Dan didn’t care. He held Phil’s hand as they walked, and when they took their usual bench half way down the bus, Dan put his arm around Phil. He could, so he did. Phil leaned into his shoulder and hummed along with the songs Dan played on his phone, and Dan did his best to ignore Chris and PJ getting over the last of their hangovers. When they finally pissed Louise off to the point she couldn’t handle them anymore, Dan laughed as she hit both of them over the head, then shoved in her own earbuds and pointedly turned up the volume.

 

As they exited the bus and made their way towards the front of the school, Dan realized that it was going to be nearly nine hours until he would have a chance to see Phil again. They shared no classes, no free periods, every hour was disjointed and shifted. He slowed his steps, his hand tightening on Phil’s, and frowned at his feet as he walked. He didn’t want to let go of Phil’s hand.

 

“You alright, babe?” Phil murmured, his voice barely audible over the shouts that filled the courtyard.

 

Dan nodded quickly. “Yeah, fine, I just… I just wish we had a period together, at least.”

 

Phil leaned his head on Dan’s shoulder. “You’ll see me again in a little while,” he promised.

 

“Yeah, I know, but I only just got you, I don’t want to leave already. Plus, these assholes kept interrupting us every time we started to do something relationship-y this morning.”

 

Phil giggled a little, his hand squeezing its grip gently. “You’re adorable when you’re irritated.”

 

Dan huffed. “It’s a good thing you think so, because I’m nearly always irritated.”

 

Phil pecked his lips quickly. “Maybe I’ll change that, hmm?”

 

Dan’s scowl softened a little then. “Maybe, yeah,” he answered in a quiet voice. But then the bell rang, and Phil gave him another quick kiss and a murmur of goodbye, he’ll see him later, then he was slipping his hand out of Dan’s and turning away. Dan watched him leave, his shoulders drooping a little. He then sighed, shoved his hands into his pockets, and started towards his first period.

 

“Fuck school,” he mumbled. “I’ll be glad to be done with it.”

 

“I feel the same, mate,” said Chris with a mournful sigh.

 

Dan gave Chris a look of _would you just stop turning up at every second already_ and the middle finger, and Chris laughed.

 

Of course Dan got back at him later during Chemistry when Chris fell asleep at their table; their teacher was very cross with Chris when he accidentally created formaldehyde. Dan found himself very amused despite the distinct reek of pee that issued from his table.

 

At least he was until Mr. Fips decided to send both of them to the headmaster.

 

“This is your fault,” Dan hissed to Chris.

 

“What, my fault?” Chris spluttered. “You were the one who told me to mix those two things together!”

 

“Yes, but if you hadn't told Fips that I swapped it, neither of us would have been sent off!” Dan pointed out. “Y’know this is the second time this week I’ve been sent to see the headmaster.”

 

“Yeah, well, you’ve got a reputation as a trouble-maker to uphold,” Christ said with a poignant eyeroll.

 

“Hey, I never encouraged that reputation,” Dan insisted, “that just happened.”

 

“Making out with Lester has probably messed it up, though.”

 

Dan and Chris stopped walking; Dan looked around with a preset scowl on his face for whoever had butted in on his conversation and love life.

 

“Then again, you don’t normally care who you fuck, do you, Howell?” added Tasha Jones with a sneer. “Obviously, since you’ve dropped to your knees for a boy who is constantly cosplaying as a dreamy anime schoolgirl.”

 

Dan’s face blanched, but he maintained his scowl. He was not going to let the little sister of his ex, who left him mind, make snide jokes about Phil. “At least I know the names of everyone I’ve ever fucked,” he said calmly. “Unlike some people I know.”

 

Tasha’s sneer soured a little; she lifted herself off the wall of lockers and strode forward, her studded heels clicking against the white tile floor and her black cotton duster swishing against her legs as she swayed her hips. She stepped right up to him, shoving her twice-pierced nose in his breathing space, and bared her vampiric incisors in a wide leer. “At least I’ve never given my shit out for free,” she hissed, her breath stinking of wine and cigarettes, “unlike some sluts I know.”

 

Dan curled his lip at her, leaning down to look her in the eye because even though she wore four inch heels she was still four inches shorter than him. “At least everyone I've ever done has actually enjoyed it.”

 

Tasha glared fully at him then. “It wouldn't be the first time someone's lied to you, though would it? You're so gullible you might actually believe it if someone tells you they enjoyed it.”

 

Dan raised one eyebrow. “Y’know, after a while it gets hard to fake it; considering how long your brother kept coming back, I’d say I’m definitely pretty good.”

 

Tasha shrugged lightly. “Doesn’t change the fact that you’re a slut, and a naive one at that. How many times did you believe him when he told you he loved you? Or when he swore he wasn’t fucking anyone else at the same time? How’s about that, mmm?”

 

Dan looked coolly back to her. “What do you want, Tash?”

 

She bristled at the abbreviation of her name, her thick eyebrows drawing even closer together. “I want you to know that you’re not all that,” she said. “One of these days, the people who protect you won’t be willing to do that anymore. Which means the people you protect will have to rescue their own asses again.”

 

“It’s a good thing I won’t be around here much longer to worry about that then, isn’t it?” Dan answered her. “Two months, sweetheart, then you’ll never have to see me again.”

 

Tasha’s scowl did not change, either for better or for worse. Rather, she jabbed her middle finger into his chest before stepping back. “That’ll be a day I cherish for the rest of my life,” she said, “getting to say goodbye to your ugly mug once and for all.”

 

“I do hope you have fun spending another, what three years here?” Dan said. “Let’s see, you’ve got held back once already, you’re not due to graduate for at least another year if you could manage to get at least a portion of your grades above D’s and to stay out of trouble, but considering your track record, I’d say that’s not going to happen. You’re pretty, Tash, darling, but you’re no Einstein, and while you may be able to fuck your way into a nice paying job later in life, that skill-set does you shit in school.”

 

Tasha worked her jaw as she glared at him, looking absolutely murderous. “I’d watch what you say, if I were you, Howell, one of these days you’re likely to piss me off enough for Carter to notice what a dick you are.”

 

“Oh, Carter’s noticed my dick plenty of times,” Dan laughed. “Used to be his favorite thing to notice.”

 

“Among others,” she spat. “You just watch yourself, Howell; you and that twink of yours are fishing for trouble.”

 

“Is that all, Tash? Because I’ve got to see the headmaster.”

 

“Yeah, and the headmaster’s been seeing your mum,” Tasha quipped. “Have a nice fucking day, slut.”

 

“You too, Tash, us sluts have got to stick together, y’know.”

 

Tasha gave him both middle fingers as she turned her back on him, going in the opposite direction of the headmaster’s office. Dan glared after her, wanting nothing more than to run after her and rip her limb from limb. But Chris had grabbed his arm, and was tugging him away, so Dan jerked his gaze back to his path and started shuffling his feet towards the headmaster’s office. Today was not quite as perfect as he had hoped it would be.

 

By the time the headmaster finished chewing them out for taking much too long to arrive, he had to call up Fips to get a reminder of what they’d done in the first place. He gave them both an hour of detention, telling Dan with a scowl that his would be served helping the primary school teachers, specifically his mum. Dan resisted both the urge to groan and to laugh; he wasn’t sure whether he would rather spend an hour staring at the ceiling or an hour sorting crayons. Chris was not quite so lucky, but then again his mother worked at the bank, not the school. The headmaster sent them both back to class with a deep set grimace of irritation on his face, telling Dan that if he heard one word against him in the next week he’d reconsider whether or not he would be allowed to graduate. Dan gave him a cheery wave as he left the office, knowing full well that all of his offenses were far enough below the radar and his grades far enough above that it was an empty threat.

 

Honestly, the only thing that worried him was what Tasha had said about Phil. He did only have two months left of school, but if something were to happen and his pinching grip on the ears of those in the more violent social circles were to be loosened… Dan shook his head. This was secondary school, not a gang or something with any actual hierarchical structure. No fool here was smart or stupid enough to think they had any real power, not even him. Tasha was just pissed on behalf of her brother, even if it had been nearly a year since Carter had left Dan. Tasha was easily pissed off most days, lately more than ever. Dan wondered almost sarcastically if she was pregnant.

 

At the end of the day, Dan made his way out of the Prince Building, where all the upper classes were held, to the primary school building across the campus to serve his hour of detention. He’d texted Phil to tell him he had detention, except he hadn't replied yet. He guessed that he could be already on the bus, or with his mother helping after class, but he honestly had no clue. He hoped Phil was at the primary school building. He really wanted to flop onto his bed with Phil and cuddle while watching a movie, but that would have to wait until after he was done with his detention. He also wanted a cigarette, but he was late as it was and if his mother so much as caught a whiff of smoke about him, she’d likely forcibly take his phone and laptop from him for a month.

 

Dan knocked on the door of his mum’s classroom with the back of his hand, then pushed it open and stuck his head in. “Mum, Mr. Gray sent me.”

 

His mother looked up from her desk. “Yes, I know, come in. What on earth did you do now?”

 

“I may have accidentally caused Chris to make formaldehyde in Chemistry because he was being a giant dickwad this morning.”

 

His mum gave him a scolding look. “Did you even check to see if there were any kids left behind?”

 

“I knew they were all gone, they get out before we do anyway.” Dan shouldered his way into the room, dropped his bag, and sat down on a desk that was half his size.

 

“Don’t sit on that, it’s made for tiny children, you’ll break it,” his mum fussed.

 

Dan rolled his eyes and pushed off of it. “What am I s’posed to do, then?”

 

“I have papers I need you to copy, then you’ll have to sort them out and put them in folders.”

 

Dan groaned. “That sounds worse than making example crafts.”

 

“It’s detention, sweetheart, what do you expect?”

 

Dan shrugged. “I don’t even know.”

 

His mother pointed with her pen to the stack of papers at the edge of her desk. “I need twenty-four copies of each page, all in color.” Dan sighed, then grabbed his bag again and picked up the stack of papers and before flicking through it.

 

“How many pages are in this?”

 

“Eleven.”

 

Dan scowled. He was going to be in the copy room for a while. Then he looked back up at his mother and coped an expression of utter desperation. “Are you sure this is what I’ve got to do, Mum?”

 

“Don’t you pull that face on me, young man, I became desensitized to puppy dog eyes a long time ago.”

 

Dan’s puppy dog eyes became a scowl again, and he gave his mum the middle finger as he turned away. “Seriously, fuck this school,” he mumbled.

 

“I thought that was what Phil was for,” he heard his mother quip. Dan scowled even harder.

 

“Fuck PJ and fuck Chris and fuck every one of these assholes.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, tell it to Phil. Get going.”

 

Dan shoved the door open with his foot, a deep set and heavily disgruntled scowl upon his face, and walked straight into Phil.

 

“Oh, there you are,” Dan’s mother called. “Phil, you can help Dan with the copying.”

 

“Oh, sure, Mrs. Howell,” Phil answered, his cheeks a rosy pink.

 

Dan looked back at his mother and resisted the urge to smirk. “Hey, how long did you say we would need to stay behind for?”

 

His mother looked over the top of her glasses at him with a very serious expression. Then she winked. “At least an hour. Now, get going, I expect those done before we have to leave.”

 

Dan shook his head as he turned away. “C’mon Phil,” he mumbled, taking his boyfriend’s hand and pulling him away.

 

The copying itself didn’t take very long. It turned out that the printer was very smart and could copy both sides of all the eleven pages on its own, but they remained locked in the copy room for the entire hour Dan’s mother had given them.

 

Once his mother had dismissed them and given Dan her keys – making him promise to come back in an hour or two to pick her up after she’d finished her paperwork –, they left the school and headed back to Dan’s house, after deciding that Phil’s, with its seven other occupants, would be too crowded. Phil leaned his head on Dan’s shoulder as they drove.

 

“So, do you want to do anything tonight?” Dan asked him.

 

Phil shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t think I’ll be able to stay over again tonight, only because I’ve been gone two nights in a row now.”

 

“That’s okay,” Dan said, though he felt a bit disappointed. “I get it.”

 

“Maybe I could try to kill you on Halo again,” Phil suggested.

 

Dan smiled, chuckling softly under his breath. “Or I could kill you.”

 

“Whichever.”

 

“What if we went out to eat tonight though? I know I said I’d take you on a proper date on Friday, but that’s two days from now and I’m rather impatient.”

 

Dan saw Phil smile from the corner of his eye, his bright eyes lighting up even further. “I think that’s a marvelous idea.”

 

Dan smiled too.

 

He parked his mother’s car in the driveway, and helped Phil out before moving to the front door. He unlocked it, and let Phil step past him into the small foyer. As he was shutting the door and replacing the deadbolt, a loud shout of “FUCK! NO!” issued from the upper floor.

 

Phil jumped and grabbed Dan’s arm, his already pale face becoming white. “Who was that?” he asked in a hiss.

 

Dan sighed, then patted Phil’s shoulder. “Chris, they broke in again.”

 

“What?” Phil said.

 

“Oi!” Dan shouted, starting up the stairs and going down the hall towards his room, where he could now hear the sounds of ingame gunfire. “What are you assholes doing now?”

 

“PJ won’t stop shooting me!”

 

“That’s the point, you idiot!”

 

Louise stuck her head out of his bedroom and waved. “Hi! Chris said you had detention, so we used the spare key to get in the back door.”

 

“You lot know where the spare key is?” Dan asked, moving into his room. Chris and PJ were playing Call of Duty, and Chris was losing quite spectacularly.

 

Phil slipped in behind Dan, looking around the room. “Oh,” he said, seeing Dan’s three friends seated around Dan’s Xbox.

 

“It’s under the red flower bed,” Chris said. “Fuck! Motherfucker, Peej!”

 

“Take that, you little shit,” PJ said. “Eat lead!”

 

“I didn’t even know where the spare key was,” Dan muttered.

 

Louise shook her head at him. “For the record, I voted to go back to PJ’s house instead of breaking into yours.”

 

“We didn’t break in!” PJ said, as he lit Chris on fire with his flamethrower. “We used a key! There was no breaking involved.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, shut up,” Dan said, crossing over to his bed and picking up the remote to his TV. He switched it off and tossed the remote back onto his pillows as Chris and PJ both began protesting.

 

“It’s my TV!” Dan told them, while PJ pouted and Chris glared.

 

“Yeah, but I convinced your mum to let you have a TV in your room!” Chris pointed out.

 

“You lot can stay if you promise to behave,” Dan said, “but at six I have to leave to pick up my mum, then Phil and I are going to dinner.”

 

“Oh, can we come?” Chris asked. Louise hit him. “Ow!”

 

“They’re going on a date, you spork,” Louise scolded him, “obviously _you_ can’t tag along.”

 

“What she said,” Dan said. “Now, if you don’t mind,” Dan snatched the controllers from Chris and PJ’s hands, then turned the TV back on, “I’m hanging out with my boyfriend.”

 

Phil smugly smiled and moved to Dan’s bed, then settled himself on the pillows. Dan dropped down next to him and handed him a controller. “Call of Duty’s already in,” he said, “so unless you had your heart set on Halo, we can just play this.”

 

“This is fine,” Phil said, taking the second controller. Chris opened the TV cabinet and pulled out two more controllers.

 

“We can have a foursome, right?” Chris asked as he tossed a controller to PJ.

 

The entire room, save for Chris, groaned.

 

“Fantastic,” Dan muttered under his breath. Phil rolled his eyes, then pecked Dan’s cheek.

 

They played a few rounds, and by the time Dan’s mother texted him asking for a ride, Dan and Phil had managed to utterly destroy Chris and PJ several times at capture the flag.

 

“Alright,” Dan said as the round ended, rising from the bed and stretching. “I have to go pick up my mum, try not to destroy my house while I’m gone.

 

“I call player one!” Chris said.

 

“Do you need me to come with you?” Phil asked Dan, as PJ and Chris started to bicker over Dan’s controller.

 

“Not if you don't want to,” Dan told him, “if you’d rather stay here, that’s fine.”

 

“I kind of do,” Phil said, a smile creeping on his face. “I’m getting fairly good at this game.”

 

“That’s fine,” Dan said again. He picked up his controller, as Chris grabbed for it and handed it to Louise. “Show these two fuckers how it’s done, Lou,” he told her. Louise gave a broad and rather sinister smile.

 

“Fuck,” Chris mumbled. “She scares me sometimes.”

 

“Good,” Dan said. “I’ll be back in a bit.”

 

He left the house, trusting that Louise would insist on team death match and promptly slaughter Chris and PJ. As he entered his car, he saw through his bedroom window Phil shout something in shock, or possibly awe. Dan shook his head slightly and backed the car out of the driveway.

 

He found his mum sitting on the curb outside the Prince Building, swiping at her phone screen furiously.

 

“Mum?” he said as he stopped the car near her, leaning towards the passenger window.

 

“Wait, I almost – no! Oh, but that was my best man! Shit,” his mother muttered.

 

“What are you doing?”

 

His mother gave a sigh and picked herself up off the curb, brushing off her slacks and lifting her briefcase. “I was trying to take the gym for team Mystic,” she said as she opened the passenger door.

 

“Mum, the gym here is already team Mystic,” Dan told her. “I’ve had the top fighter on the gym for almost two weeks.”

 

His mother checked her phone again. “Oh. Never mind.”

 

Dan rolled his eyes as his mother seated herself by the window. He waited for her to remember that the seatbelt by the window was broken, and helped her move her briefcase off the middle seat. His mother dropped her head onto the back of the seat with a sigh as he lifted off the brake and gently accelerated, making his way out of the parking lot.

 

“Is Phil staying again?” she asked him.

 

“No, but we’re going out tonight.”

 

“That’s good,” she murmured. “I’m so glad you two finally got together.”

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Dan muttered, “you shipped it ages ago, we know.”

 

His mother chuckled. “To be honest with you, dear, I shipped you more with PJ than Phil.”

 

Dan almost missed a turn. “Sorry, what?”

 

“I shipped you with PJ, I had for ages, but once you and Phil started hanging out more, I did begin to ship the two of you.”

 

Dan shook his head, “Hold on, but you kept getting me to help out with your class because of Phil? Right?”

 

“Well, not initially,” she admitted. “After the trip to London, I did.”

 

Dan stared ahead, only barely registering the stop light and hitting brakes just soon enough to not run the light. His mother grabbed the dashboard to stop herself hitting it, and grumbled to herself about useless lap seatbelts.

 

“Sorry,” he muttered.

 

“You’re fine, it only just turned red.”

 

“I just… I thought you shipped us, for ages now.”

 

“Well, I did, after I saw you two on the bus in London, but I didn’t start shipping you with Phil more than PJ until a few weeks ago.”

 

“You ship me and PJ?” Dan said, his voice extremely flustered.

 

“Not anymore, obviously.”

 

“But PJ and Chris have been secretly in love with each other for almost three years?”

 

“I thought that was just how they behaved?”

 

“No, they want to fuck each other.”

 

“Oh. Well then.”

 

Dan gave a sigh. “Everything I believed was a lie.”

 

“It was all you all along, sweetheart.”

 

“I didn’t ship myself with Phil, not until just recently.”

 

“Mhmm.”

 

Dan gave his mother a sideways look. “Don’t you ‘mhmm’ me, lady, I know what that means.”

 

“What does it mean?” She asked, checking her phone. “Ooh, a Drowzy!”

 

“It means that you’re fake believing me,” he answered, ignoring her Pokemon hunting.

 

“Mhmm,” she said distractedly, trying to catch the Drowzy before they drove past it. Dan accelerated unnecessarily, putting her out of range. “Oh, I almost had him!”

 

“Mhmm,” he said, perfectly imitating her tone.

 

“Hmph,” she replied.

 

There was silence for a little while. His mother put away her phone and watched the road, Dan was thinking over the past three months, wondering if he really had been the one shipping it before his mother had been.

 

“I’m glad you’re dating Phil,” his mother said. “He’s good for you. I can tell already.”

 

“Yeah?” he said. “How?”

 

“Yesterday would have been your and Carter’s anniversary.”

 

Dan fell silent at that. He hadn’t realized. Carter had called him yesterday. Now that he thought about it, he had to wonder if it was just to talk about the ‘girly boy’ he’d rescued.

 

“I forgot,” he murmured.

 

They didn’t talk for the rest of the ride, though it was less than five minutes. When they re-entered the house, they could already hear Chris shouting about someone being unfair, and PJ swearing indiscriminately.

 

“Nice friends you have there, Daniel,” his mother sighed.

 

“They’re leaving,” Dan promised.

 

“I actually don’t care,” his mother replied. “It’s fine with me if they stay the night again.”

 

“Well, Phil and I are going out, so they are leaving,” Dan said firmly as he approached his room. “Right, you lot?”

 

“What?” Chris asked absently.

 

Dan crossed in front of the TV and dropped down onto his bed, making Phil almost fall sideways. “When do you want to go, and where?” he asked him, now ignoring Chris.

 

“In a minute,” Phil said, then, rather triumphantly, he added a “Ha! Take that, you fool,” as he shot PJ to death, losing half his health to PJ’s sub-machine gun as he did.

 

“Very good, babe,” Dan said, clapping softly.

 

“Oh, hush, I have med-packs.”

 

They finished the round quickly, and Dan turned the TV off before Chris, who had managed to get the player one controller from Louise, could start the next game. He ignored their complaints and stood up.

 

“You ready to go, Phil?” Dan asked.

 

“Yes,” Phil said, beaming as he hopped off the bed.

 

“Are you going on your first date now?” Chris asked.

 

“Shut up, Chris,” Dan said.

 

“Yes,” Phil said with an adorable flush.

 

“So cute,” PJ sighed.

 

“I ship it so much,” Louise added.

 

“So does his mother,” Phil said with a laugh. Dan decided not to tell Phil that she had actually shipped D-J more than Phan. Then he shuddered internally at the atrocious ship name he and PJ would have had. Then a little more at the thought of going out with PJ.

 

Dan didn’t want to admit that he was getting nervous, but his hands shook a little as he started the car and his heartbeat was thumping in his chest faster than it normally did. As Phil rested his hand on Dan’s knee, Dan almost jumped in his seat. He tried to subtly inhale deeply and calm himself, but Phil looked over at him with a gentle smile.

 

“I’m a little nervous too,” he murmured. Dan didn’t have the heart to lie and say he wasn’t. So instead, he gave him a smile back and nodded. Phil laid his head on Dan’s shoulder and announced that he had a craving for pizza.

 

“Pizza it is,” Dan said with a laugh.

 

They had their dinner, then just sat in their booth and talked, until a waitress came over and told them that the restaurant was closing soon. Dan hadn’t even realized how late it was. He drove Phil home, and Phil kissed him before leaving. Dan waved to him as Phil reached the door, and Phil blew a little kiss. Dan pretended to catch it and smiled at him.

 

The rest of the week was calm, he worked on Saturday and on Sunday he and Phil made example crafts for three hours. Granted, part of that time they were kissing, but no one was there to notice. On Monday the brisk breeze that had been forcing everyone to keep their jackets and coats on was conspicuously absent, and Dan took Phil to see a movie. On Wednesday he had work again, and Phil found out where he worked.

 

“I never thought you were the kind to work in a bookstore,” Phil said as he came up to Dan at the cash register. Dan rolled his eyes but leaned on the counter to meet Phil with a kiss.

 

“Haven’t you realized by now how much of a nerd I am?” Dan asked him, raising an eyebrow.

 

“Oh, certainly,” Phil said with a laugh.

 

“What are you doing here anyway?” Dan asked. “Couldn’t wait to see me at school tomorrow?” he added with a smirk.

 

Now Phil rolled his eyes, then lifted the basket he carried in the crook of his arm. “I came to buy books, but if that’s what you’d like to think, then sure.”

 

Dan blushed a little, and lifted himself off the counter. He took the basket from Phil and took the stack of books from it. “I love this one,” Dan said, as he scanned Ready Player One. “You’ll love the ending.”

 

Phil smiled at him. “No spoilers, or no kisses.”

 

Dan stuck his nose in the air. “I would never spoil anyone,” he said snobbishly. “I am a defender of unspoiled readers everywhere.”

 

“Well good,” Phil laughed. Dan smiled and shook his head as he scanned the other three books. He entered his employee discount code into the computer and put the books into a bag. Phil payed for the books with a debit card.

 

“Fancy,” Dan said. “You’re all adulty.”

 

“Don't say that, you’ll make it sound weird,” Phil said as he scrunched his nose. Dan laughed.

 

“Now who’s the one with their mind in the gutter?” he asked him, handing him the bag and his receipt. Phil looked down at it, and raised his eyebrows.

 

“You gave me your discount?” Phil asked, looking up.

 

“Yeah,” Dan said, his cheeks feeling warm. “Why not?”

 

Phil grinned at him, then leaned in and kissed him. “Thanks, baby,” Phil murmured.

 

Dan pecked his lips again, then pulled back and winked. “Anytime, princess.”

 

Phil smirked as he stepped away. He waved as he left the shop.

 

“You know, company policy usually frowns on employees giving romantic favors to customers.”

 

Dan waved a hand behind him at his boss. “Yeah, yeah, I know.”

 

Jack shook his head at him as he passed. “There was once a time when I was young and in love as well,” he said with a sigh.

 

“Excuse me, but last time I check, you were still young and in love!” called Mark as he exited the break room/office.

 

“Only one of those things is still true, and you know it,” Jack said with a laugh.

 

“If you’re getting old, then so am I!” Mark protested.

 

“Last I checked, that was true,” Dan piped up.

 

“Hey, watch it kid, I can fire you,” Mark said, pointing a threatening finger at him that was made less threatening by the weekly check he held in his other hand.

 

Dan rolled his eyes as he took the check. “Yeah, yeah, but then you wouldn’t have my sweet ass to stare at.”

 

“I don’t stare at your ass, thank you very much!” Mark sniffed. “There are better asses to stare at.”

 

Dan rolled his eyes again. Mark would never fire him, and he knew it.

 

On Thursday, the chill was officially declared banished by the weatherman, however Dan took that with a grain of salt. He partially hoped that it would stay cold, because as long as it was cold, Phil wore jumpers with sleeves that went past his knuckles. On Friday, he and Phil went to a fair that was in town; Phil dragged him onto all of the rides and they ate candy floss on the ferris wheel. As they reached the top, Phil stuck a piece of the pink candy fluff on Dan’s upper lip. Dan rolled his eyes and ate it, then kissed him. Kissing Phil on the ferris wheel was something that he’d never done with Carter.

 

As they exited the ferris wheel, Phil curled his arm around Dan’s and leaned on his shoulder. Dan gave him a warm smile.

 

“Ooh, look at that!” Phil cooed, pointing to a giant stuffed panda hanging from a game booth’s awning. “I love pandas.”

 

Dan glanced between it and Phil, then steered him towards it. “Come on, then.”

 

“Where are we going?” Phil asked, giggling a little.

 

“To get you that panda.”

 

“You are so cliche,” Phil laughed.

 

“I don't care,” Dan told him.

 

“Step up, three dollars for five shots, five for six! Step on up!”

 

Dan gave the booth attendant a fiver, then took up the cartoonish shotgun. “Hit the ducks to win a prize, hit the swan to win a mega prize,” the attendant told him in a tone that clearly conveyed that the poor girl was exhausted and trying to hide it. Dan raised the shotgun and aimed. The girl started the game, and cardboard cut-outs of barnyard animals popped up, crossing the booth in lines of three. Dan fired and hit a duck with a rubber cork.

 

“Go Dan!” Phil said with a laugh, applauding him.

 

Dan’s eye was out for the swan, which he guessed would get Phil the giant panda. He shot two more ducks, then a rabbit which he’d reacted to in hopes was the swan. He had only one shot left, when the swan finally appeared.

 

“Goal!” cried the attendant as the swan fell backwards, hit. Dan set down the toy gun and grinned at Phil, who beamed back. “What prize would you like, sir?”

 

“This panda,” Dan said, pointing to it. The girl took it down and held it out to them; it was bigger than her entire upper body. Dan took it, then handed it to Phil, who hugged it and grinned.

 

“Thank you, baby,” Phil said, pecking him on the cheek. Dan mumbled something in reply under his breath, blushing. The girl smiled at them as they left, and he could swear as they did, he heard her mutter _“I ship it.”_

 

Phil stayed at his house again that night, and they watched Kung Fu Panda with Phil’s new panda bear until they all fell asleep, not including the panda.

 

April was nearly over, and Dan’s mum told him that Monday that his younger brother would be finishing the school year sooner than him, and was coming home the following week. Dan replied to this with a grunt which his mother translated accurately into “good for him.” Over the next week, he was helping his mother with her class to get the last few hours of community service he needed to graduate. That Saturday, he went with them on a field trip to a farm out in the country, and Dan spent the entire time in the back sticking his hands in Phil’s back pockets because of course this random farm in the middle of the countryside was absolutely freezing. When no one was looking, Dan kissed him on the bus. Phil kept giggling, and one girl turned around in her seat to hold up her hands in a heart in front of them, to which Dan grumbled something about kids and Phil giggled some more.

 

Sunday, they went back to the same pizza place downtown, and sat in the same side of a booth to eat pizza and work on the last bits of their homework. They graduated in just two weeks, and Phil insisted they study. Dan had wanted to go to the arcade, but Phil stuck out his bottom lip until he gave in.

 

“Phil, what the hell is a lichen?” Dan asked as he looked up from his laptop.

 

Phil held up a finger until he swallowed the chip he was eating. “It’s a symbiotic relationship between a plant and a fungus,” he answered a moment later.

 

“Oh,” Dan said. He scribbled something on his scratch paper. “What’s a zygote again?”

 

“Did you ever pay attention in biology?”

 

“No,” Dan answered honestly. Phil rolled his eyes.

 

“We have our final exams starting Monday, you know.”

 

“Eh, my English and Math grades will make up for my bad Biology one.”

 

“If you fail biology, you’ll have to repeat a year.”

 

“I’m not going to fail biology!” Dan protested. “The essay questions are worth half the exam, and Wojcicki told us what they were yesterday!”

 

“And that helps you how?”

 

“Because,” Dan said with smile, “I have an uncanny ability to –”

 

“Bullshit your way through any essay, yes you’ve said,” Phil murmured. Then he looked up and frowned. “Can we help you?”

 

Dan turned around in his seat, then his heart skipped a beat. He hadn’t noticed the man standing behind them until Phil spoke to him; when he did, he wished that he could melt into the booth.

 

“Not really,” Carter answered. “At least, you can’t.”

 

“Fuck off,” Dan snapped. He heard Phil draw a sharp intake of breath beside him, but ignored him. He glared up at Carter, challenging him to start something.

 

Carter merely chuckled. “Still feisty,” he said. “Have you been enjoying this part of Dan, pretty boy?” he added to Phil.

 

“I said fuck off, Carter,” Dan said.

 

“Nah,” Carter said with a quiet sigh, then he had the audacity to slip into the boot opposite them. “I’ve got something to tell you, Danny.”

 

“I have something to tell you,” Dan replied, “go fuck yourself all the way into hell.”

 

“This is good news, Danny, will you shut up and stop hating me for just a second so I can say it?” Carter said, his calm demeanor slipping.

 

Dan leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest. “What?”

 

“You’re safe,” Carter said. His voice dropped as he leaned in, his expression growing serious. “You can go on to university, you can forget me and all my friends, and you never have to worry about it again.”

 

Dan’s face went slack. Phil glanced between them, confused. “I don't understand,” Dan said.

 

“I fixed it, okay, Dan? I fixed it so no one is ever going to ask you to get involved with us ever again.” When Dan continued to stare blankly at him, Carter smacked his hand against the table, making him jump. “Damn it, Dan, don’t make me spell it out. You told me a few weeks ago that you wanted nothing to do with who I made friends with, and I fixed it so that they’ll never bother you again. You’re safe from them, your family is safe, no one will bother you. Do you fucking understand, Danny?”

 

Something clicked in his mind. Dan’s jaw dropped a little, then he nodded. Carter had dragged him into 22nd Street Syndicate years ago when he had joined, which put Dan in their sights. Now, Carter had stepped up and taken him off their roster. Something that wasn’t allowed in gangs...

 

“Good,” Carter said. He leaned back in the booth, his conflicted gaze fixed on Dan’s. “I’ll never bother you again either,” he murmured. “So, don’t make me regret it, okay, Danny?”

 

Carter rose from the booth, and walked past them. He touched Dan’s shoulder as he moved past them, then doubled back, this time fixing his gaze on Phil. “Listen to me, pretty boy, this motherfucker is stubborn as shit, he doesn’t like having to give ground and he hates letting himself get emotional. I probably did that to him myself. Or maybe it was his parents, I don’t know, but he deserves a happy ending, so you’d better watch yourself, ‘cause I might not talk to him ever again but I still give a whole lotta shits about him so I’m keeping an eye on him, and you do not want to fuck him up any worse than I did, because if you do, I’ll do worse to you.” Carter jabbed a finger into Phil’s chest. “Got it, princess?”

 

Phil shrunk back against Dan, his eyes wide as he nodded. Dan smacked Carter’s hand away, angry that the moniker he’d been using to turn Phil on was now being used in a threat. “Fuck off, Carter,” Dan said again.

 

Carter drew himself back, and for a split second Dan could swear that he saw something in his eyes that was broken. “I’ll do that,” he murmured. “Have a good life, okay, Danny?”

 

And with that, he left. Dan didn’t watch him go. He put his arm around Phil’s waist and kissed him. They packed up their homework and went back to Phil’s house, where they made out in his basement bedroom and watched crime dramas until they fell asleep.

 

Adrian came home Monday night, after finals had begun and Dan hoped that his skill at essays helped float his bio grade above a D. At dinner on Monday, Adrian asked him who he’d fallen in love with, and Dan told him to shut up, but he couldn’t help but smile. Phil couldn’t hang out after school because he had to babysit his younger siblings, but they promised to meet up on Tuesday.

 

“So, this is who loverboy is mooning over all the time now, then?” Adrian sked as Dan and Phil came up the stairs.

 

“Yes,” Phil answered. “I assume that you’re Adrian?”

 

“Yeah,” answered Dan’s younger brother. “The littlest shit, according to him.”

 

“Daniel, you should be nicer to your siblings,” Phil scolded. Adrian laughed and Dan rolled his eyes. Phil stayed the night, and Adrian raised his eyebrows at breakfast the next day.

 

“Mum!” he shouted.

 

“What?” she answered.

 

“Dan’s boyfriend stayed the night!”

 

“I know, I had to tell them to stop playing video games at 3 a.m. and go to sleep already.”

 

“That’s not fair,” Aiden grumbled under his breath. “Dad wouldn’t let my girlfriend stay the night.”

 

“That’s because you’re fourteen, young man, you’re not supposed to have a girlfriend,” Dan’s mother said to him as she gave Phil coffee.

 

Adrian rolled his eyes.

 

The date of their graduation was scheduled for June 10th, the day before Dan’s nineteenth birthday. Dan was in love with Phil, and as their last day of school got nearer and nearer, he wanted desperately for Phil to know too. He decided that the night of the tenth, after graduation, he would drag Phil off to the park by the primary school, and as romantically as he and his sarcastic cynical ass could be, confess his love for him under the stars. The thought of his plan made him a little nauseated with how cheesy it was and filled to the brim with excitement.

On June 3rd, Dan decided to get another tattoo. He remembered Phil’s love of the dragon on his neck, the suggestion of another on the small of his back, and picked out a new design. He’d gotten the dragon almost exactly a year ago, on his eighteenth birthday. He thought of Phil, of all the late night talks they’d had and what he loved so much about him. He knew he’d have this tattoo for the rest of his life, and he knew that he was getting it because he hoped he would be with Phil for the rest of his life. He was hopelessly in love with him.

He got the tattoo on the fifth.

The day of graduation was nerve-wrecking; Dan’s mother cried when he received his diploma and even he teared up (just a little) during Phil’s speech because of course his boyfriend gave a speech at graduation. By the time it was all over, Dan had only just realized that a section of his life had just finished. He may have been eighteen for over a year, but he was going to be legitimately considered an adult. Vaguely, as he drove somewhat reluctantly – Phil, Chris, PJ and Louise with him – to an after-party at one of the ‘popular kids’ houses, he wondered how he was going to make people stop considering him an adult.

The after-party itself was much too loud, and there probably were too many underage kids drinking too many cans of beer. At one point, Dan went looking for Chris and PJ and found them sitting in a corner with at least twelve empty cans of beer at their feet, sloppily making out next to a potted plant. It was then that Dan decided to leave.

He’d confided his plan to Louise the day before, and she had agreed to help him with an excuse to drive back to the school. Her house was on the other side of the city, in the opposite direction of his and Phil’s, so they agreed they would tell Phil they had to drive her home before dark, then head back to either Phil or Dan’s house themselves. Though, to be honest, Dan wasn’t sure exactly why Louise was at the graduation after-party; she still had two years of school left. After dropping off Louise, he’d head for the park. Fortunately for him, a mutual friend of his and PJ’s had agreed to house any drunken friends in their circle, so he didn’t have to deal with Chris and PJ continuing to drunkenly make out in his backseat while he confessed his love to Phil.

Dan had clammy palms the entire time he drove to Louise’s house. When she got out of the car and thanked him, she’d given him a less-subtle-than-it-could-have-been wink and patted his arm.

“I’ll see you later,” she said. “I know you’re officially free of that dreaded place, but you’d better keep visiting me until I am too.”

“As if I’d dream of abandoning you to the wolves,” Dan said. She rolled her eyes and patted his cheek, before waving to Phil and heading to her house. It was just getting dark, the sky was that one shade of blue that you can’t tell if it’s early morning or twilight, and the stars would be visible soon. The park was twenty minutes away, a twenty minutes that they filled with talk about summer and the future and what kind of job they wanted to have. Phil didn’t even notice they weren’t heading back to their street until Dan cut the engine at the park. The sky was dark then.

“Wait, why are we here?” Phil ask. Dan opened his door, got out and held out his hand to Phil.

“Let’s just be kids again, just for one more night,” he said. Phil smiled, his cheeks becoming a rosy pink. He took Dan’s hand.

They sat on the swings, a light breeze running its fingers through their hair and sending goosebumps up their arms. Dan kept holding onto Phil’s hand, their feet dragged against the mulch, the two of them let the swings rock them gently back and forth, their free hands holding loosely onto the chains. Phil was looking up at the stars, but Dan was looking at him.

“Where do you think we’ll be in five years?” Phil asked in a soft murmur. “Or even one?”

Dan didn’t answer him at first. He kept staring at him, at the slant of his forehead to his nose, his soft lips reflecting the quickly strengthening moonlight.

“I don’t know,” whispered Dan.

“Where do you want to be?”

Dan dug the heels of his trainers into the playground mulch, pulling on Phil’s hand to stop him as well. Phil did, and he looked finally to Dan. Dan leaned forward, tugging on the swings to press his lips to Phil’s.

“I want to be next to you,” he said.

Phil’s smile was slow, it was soft and bashful and lovely. It was most importantly bright, and Dan could swear the stars shone from his eyes.

“I love you,” he murmured.

Phil touched his lips to Dan’s again, his other hand pressing against his cheek and the one holding Dan’s squeezing tightly.

“I love you too,” Phil whispered against his lips.

“I want to still be with you in ten years,” Dan said, “I want to be with you in twenty, in forty, when you start to get old and your hair goes gray, when we’re both too old to remember that the rest of the world existed in the first place, I want to be next to you when you get your dream job and when you retire, I want to hold your hand for the rest of your life. I want you.”

Phil kissed him again, and as he pressed closer Dan felt the tears drip from his eyes and onto his cheeks. He kissed him deeply, not hotly or passionately, but sweetly, a kiss that was emotional and warm. Phil didn’t need to say anything in return, yet Dan heard it all. _I want to be with you too._

“Dan?” Phil whispered, their faces still pressed close together.

“Yeah?” breathed Dan. Phil’s eyes were staring right into his, and they were the most beautiful shade of blue he’d ever seen.

“I never told you, but you’re the one who made me realize that I’m gay.”

Dan grinned. “I made you gay.”

“Sort of,” Phil giggled. “I would have ended up gay even if I hadn’t met you.”

Dan kissed him again. “You went gay for me,” he said.

Phil slipped off his swing and settled himself on Dan’s lap, his arms wrapped around his neck and his body huddled against Dan’s chest. “I love you,” he murmured.

“I love you too,” Dan said, and he was grinning wider than he’d ever grinned in his whole life.

“I love your dimples,” Phil said. Dan laughed quietly, raising his eyebrows a little.

“Yeah?”

“I love your stupid jokes, I love your hair when it’s curly, I love your hands and I love your beautiful eyes,” whispered Phil. “I love your laugh, when you snort and when you’re trying not to laugh, I love the way you roll your eyes at literally everything, I love how you’re always holding my hand, I love your tattoo, I love the color of your lips and the sound of you breathing. I love you.”

Dan kissed him, since that was the only thing he could think to do that summed up all his thoughts and feelings. He locked his arms around him, his hands pressing into the small of his back and one arm curled around the chain of the swing. It was the kind of kiss that you both fear and long for, because it’s the kind of kiss that means you’ve fallen so fully, wholeheartedly, desperately in love with someone that even the kisses you share are promises for the future. The kind of kiss that you pour your very soul into, and you pray to God that the person you’re kissing feels the very same way, and when they do, you could get drunk off the feeling. That was the way he kissed Phil, sitting in a primary school playground, under the light of the stars and the moon. It was the kind of kiss you share with someone you intend to kiss until the end of time, as long as time ends before you die.

Dan lifted his lips from Phil’s, resting his forehead against his boyfriend’s. He breathed in the scent of him, of raspberries and flowers and pure sunshine.

“I need to show you something,” Dan whispered.

“What?”

“Get up a second.”

Phil rose from his lap, his hand going to hold onto the chain of the swing. Dan stood then turned around and lifted the hem of his shirt. He heard Phil gasp a little, then felt his fingers, cold to his skin, brush over the fresh tattoo.

“ _When the moon fell in love with the sun / all was golden in the sky / all was golden when the day met the night,_ ” Phil whispered, reading the words from the skin of Dan’s back. The words, from When the Day Met the Night by Panic! At the Disco, were written above an illustration, of the sun and the moon, and Phil’s name. Inked forever into his skin.

Phil’s hand pressed flat against the tattoo, and his lips pressed against the back of Dan’s neck. Dan dropped the hem of his shirt and turned, to have Phil kiss him again, that same kind of kiss they’d shared just a moment before, doubled or even tripled in intensity by the ink in Dan’s skin. Phil’s arms were wrapped around Dan’s, his fingers tangled in his hair, their lips pressed together feverishly in the promise of a future. All was golden that night, under the soft blue light of the moon.


End file.
